


Masquerade

by luckynoir



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Costume Parties & Masquerades, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Texting, and they were roommates (my god they were roommates), football star amir, porridge is a cat, theater and jock dynamics written by someone who was neither a theater kid nor a jock, theater kid rupert, wlw/mlm solidarity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckynoir/pseuds/luckynoir
Summary: Heartland U is divided: the athletes on the East, the arts on the West. With grant money on the table, things might get a bit out of hand between the two.Rupert is a theater kid just trying to keep the department afloat. He didn't count on catching feelings for the captain of the football team (or for his new texting friend, either, for that matter). Amir is still learning to reach out to people and figure out his own feelings - if only his new friend didn't make that so difficult.(They're in college. They're destined rivals. Miscommunication and fluff ensues!)
Relationships: Lady Cecily/Sir Joan (Two Princes Podcast), Prince Amir & Sir Joan, Prince Amir/Prince Rupert (Two Princes Podcast), Prince Rupert & Lady Cecily
Comments: 40
Kudos: 81





	1. Two Campuses, Both Alike in Dignity...

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this idea popped into my head so basically i outlined all this in two days and i'm pretty happy with it so far!! this fandom may be babey but my love for it is not :D (also lowkey i wasn't a theater kid or a jock but i based this a lot on my own college experiences so hopefully that comes thru!!)
> 
> also the title might change!!! (i'm titling this at 2:15 am so that would be why)

“Okay, my lovely troupe. I have something I need you all to know before we start rehearsal for the day.”

Lavinia made a show of getting to her feet, adjusting her tiered skirt for a moment before pacing regally before the group. Thirty or so tired college students stared up at her, spread across the rehearsal space on floor cushions or mismatched chairs.

Once her back was turned to them, Rupert leaned toward Cecily. “So, what do you think its about this time?” he whispered, and Cecily rolled her eyes.

“Who cares?” she whispered back, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “Probably wants us to impress another important college sponsor-y person or something, I don’t know.”

“One of Heartland’s most important sponsors will be arriving in two weeks,” Lavinia started, and Rupert widened his eyes at Cecily, impressed. She smirked, shrugging slightly as Lavinia continued, “and she’s bringing a _sizeable_ grant donation with her.”

“Well, she’s already decided to donate, so what’s the problem, then?” 

Lavinia narrowed her eyes at the student in the back. “ _Because,_ Rab, she hasn’t decided which department to give it to. She’s, and I quote, _undecided_ between our _illustrious_ theatre department and… the football team.”

Rupert actually laughed at that, and Lavinia turned a gently withering gaze on him. “Something funny, Rupert?”

He reddened a bit, but met her eye anyway. “Yeah, actually. The _football team_ or the _theatre department?_ Those are like, as different as it gets. I mean, how come she’s picking between the East and West sides? I didn’t think that really happened here, especially with donors.”

Lavinia sighed, and looked away. “Supposedly, she has ties to both sides. It’s not really common, you’re right, but it’s not unheard of.”

The girl sitting behind Rupert raised a hand, and Lavinia nodded in her direction.

“Excuse me, Professor, but… East and West? Aren’t we all one campus?”

“Of course, Gwen. I forgot you were a transfer student. Does anyone care to explain Heartland’s petty little campus rivalry?”

Cecily turned to her, and scooped up two extra cushions. “It’s like this, okay? So, the West — ” She set a cushion down to her left. “That’s us, you know, since all the art buildings and performance halls are like, on the West side of campus, right?”

Gwen nodded, and Cecily continued. “So, yeah. The West is all the art clubs, music stuff, language people, whatever. And the East side —” she tossed the second pillow to her right carelessly — “they have pretty much like, all the newer buildings and the stadiums and stuff. So, they’re like, all the jocks and STEM clubs and basically, like, the people who get all the funding. And we’ve been rivals since Heartland opened, basically. That sound about right?”

Lavinia gave a short laugh. “A very… eloquent description, Cecily. Thank you.” Cecily preened, and Rupert shoved her lightly.

“Teacher’s pet,” he mouthed, and she shoved him back with a grin.

“Anyway,” Lavinia said airily, “we need to find a way to secure that grant money! As Cecily said, they… do have most of the funding, on the East. And I’d like to be able to do more with this program; you’re all talented people, and we — you, that is, deserve the chance to shine!” She gestured toward them with a bright smile for a moment before clearing her throat. 

“So, this brings me to the point of this meeting, as it were. We already needed to raise funds in our annual drive, but since now there’s grant money on the line… we’re going to do something absolutely _enchanting_ to impress the donor! So, I’m opening the floor to ideas.”

She clasped her hands together in enthusiasm only to be met with a silent crowd.

“I would be absolutely honored to perform one of my many monologues — ”

“No, no, Rab, that’s actually… that’s okay.” Lavinia cleared her throat. “Any _other_ suggestions? Anyone?” She tutted softly. “You know, for theatre people, you’re awfully quiet.”

Rupert looked at Cecily only to be met with another shrug. He rolled his eyes, trying to think of something, _anything_ , when a blur of color caught his gaze. He looked back up at the bright theatrical masks adorning the walls, and spoke before he’d even finished processing the thought.

“A masquerade ball. We could throw a masquerade, invite students and faculty… that’d be impressive, right?”

Lavinia gave him a dazzling smile. _“This_ is why you’re the department favorite, Rupert! Okay everyone, now that that’s settled, I was thinking we could work on…”

The rest of rehearsal went quickly, just another day of script run-throughs before Cecily was dragging Rupert to the library with her.

“I just need like, one more source for my paper, okay? My professor says it _has_ to be a paper source and I don’t like going to the library alone or I wouldn’t have asked! It’s like, _so_ snooze in there.”

“It’s fine,” Rupert grumbled. “In exchange, though, I need to borrow your car. Porridge is out of treats again, and they only sell the ones he likes at that one store…” 

Cecily let out a loud laugh as they pushed the glass doors open, ignoring the offended looks they walked past. “Yeah, right, Rupie. Last time I let you take my car, you brought it back with like, _three_ of the dash lights on. I don't even know how you _did_ that! I’m still not actually sure if you actually passed your driver’s test.”

“I passed!” he said indignantly, choosing not to bring up the three times he had, in fact, failed.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll drive you myself, it’s no big.”

He opened his mouth to thank her, but she cut him off with a grin.

“In exchange for _that,_ though, you have to listen to me talk about Hot Track Girl.”

Rupert groaned, setting down his bag and dropping into one of the library’s misplaced computer chairs as she perused the nearby shelves.

~

Amir sighed as he closed 7 tabs of academic journals and citation software. He leaned back in his chair, cracking his back before pulling up his school email one last time before heading out. His smile at seeing only one unread faded as he checked the sender line.

Coach rarely sent emails, and when he did, they were never good — usually announcements of rescheduling, injuries, and the like. He clicked it, letting out a breath as he skimmed the announcement. Just something about a grant they’d be competing for in a few weeks, an assurance it would go to the football team, and a note to come early to the next practice for a short team meeting.

He logged off, shrugging on his letter jacket and slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stood for the first time in an hour. He didn’t have practice tonight which meant… he could get caught up on his work, talk with Joan… maybe even get enough sleep for once! He smiled a bit at that, and pushed in his chair.

He was walking toward the stairs when he passed two people laughing loudly over something on a laptop, and he frowned.

“Hey, can you two keep it down, please? People are trying to work.” He regretted the words as soon as he caught the girl’s withering glare.

“Um, like, there’s literally no one else over here, so…” She gave him a faux-apologetic smile, and the boy next to her lightly pushed her shoulder, sighing exasperatedly without looking up.

“Cecily, I _told_ you! Sorry we bothered you. We’ll try to keep it down next time.” He gave her an annoyed look, and she stuck her tongue out at him. “C’mon, we need to head out, anyway.” He grabbed his bag, looking up to give Amir a smile that seemed much more genuine, and Amir froze. 

He wasn’t model attractive, or handsome in a striking way, but for some reason Amir couldn’t look away. Something about the way his brown eyes crinkled in his smile, or the freckles splashed across his cheeks, or the soft curls in his brown hair… 

“Is… something wrong?” A concerned little furrow deepened between his brows, and Amir snapped himself back to reality.

“No, sorry, I… I have to go.” And with an awkward smile, he all but ran from the building.

What was he _doing?_ Joan was _never_ going to let him live that down. One cute guy and he literally forgets how to do anything other than stare and be a creep?

He groaned, and ran a hand through his tight curls. _Whatever._ Heartland was big enough; he’d probably never see that guy again. And even if he did, would he really recognize that bumbling fool as Amir, honor student and captain of the football team? He hoped not.

The library was one of the furthest West of all the main campus buildings, and since Amir’s dorm was in the East, he didn’t make a point to visit it often. Or any West buildings, for that matter. He forewent the usual aimless scrolling through his phone on his walk back in favor of appreciating some of the older buildings, the gentle touch of twilight on the manicured greens.

It was surprisingly quiet on this side of campus; most of the buildings closed after classes ended unlike the bustling science centers back East. Amir hardly passed anyone on the way to his dorm, which only made him startle worse when he heard a sudden rustle behind him.

“Hello?” he said tentatively, looking for someone that apparently wasn’t there. He looked around for another moment before shrugging and turning back with a shake of his head.

Then he felt a brush at his ankle.

Amir flinched even worse the second time, and looked down to see a huge, fluffy cat winding its way between his legs. He laughed a bit in spite of himself, carefully stepping away enough to crouch down and offer his hand to the cat.

The cat sniffed at his hand a few times, looking up at him before walking closer and headbutting his palm. The fur was soft to the touch, spotted in pastel shades of yellow, white, and grey.

“You’re awful sweet for a feral cat,” he said, petting the fur just under its ears. “So, you live on the West side, huh? I didn’t think cats were allowed on campus. I guess I was wrong.”

The cat made a soft _mmrp_ sound at that, and Amir glanced up at the darkening sky. “It’s getting late; I need to get home. You should come visit the East side sometime, okay?” He smiled at the cat one last time before brushing himself off and heading back to his dorm.

Except, the cat started following.

“You know, I didn’t mean right now,” Amir murmured under his breath, waving at a few former classmates across the quad. “I can’t take you home with me, little guy, my roommate’s allergic!” 

But still, the cat followed, prancing regally at his heels.

“Okay, I guess,” he said, and swiped his ID at the door. “Just… stay in the hall, for a little while, and I’ll call the RA.” They stepped off the elevator into the mercifully quiet hallway. “Okay?”

The cat mewled at him, and he smiled involuntarily as he turned the key. 

Of course, the cat took that moment to dash into his room and immediately curl up on his couch.

“What? No, come on,” he said, half amused, half exasperated. “Please?”

The cat sank down lower, and Amir sighed, dropping down on the cushion beside it. “Okay,” he said, and pat it gently behind its ear. His finger caught on something hard, and Amir was worried for the briefest moment before reaching out with his other hand and lifting the collar above the thick fur.

“You’re not feral after all,” he murmured, gently turning the collar to see the tag.

Amir snorted. “What kind of name is Porridge for a cat?”

Porridge gave him another look, and his expression softened. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. It’s a very nice name. Lovely, even. It suits you.”

He idly wondered when he’d become the type of person who apologized to stray cats as he typed the digits on the tag into his phone.

**I think I found your cat.**

A few minutes passed, and he was unpacking his bag when his phone buzzed.

_SHIT HE GOT OUT AGAIN????_

_sry for the language this is just the third time this week_

Amir laughed quietly, and set his book down.

**No, no, it’s okay. He seems too sweet to run away three times in a week, though.**

_looks are deceiving!! he’s usually so sweet but apparently he hates his dad :c_

**I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. Probably just wanted some fresh air! It’s been really nice outside lately.**

Amir read over the text again and groaned. So he didn’t have a lot of friends. Was that _any_ explanation for why he was trying to make weather smalltalk with a stranger?

**Anyway, are you a student at Heartland? I can bring him back to you; he’s been following me around since I met him.**

_yeah, i am!! that would b sweet actually thank u!!_

**Not a problem! What’s your name, just so I have an idea of who I’m looking for?**

_wait a minute. waaaaaiiit a minute how do i know ur not just campus security trying to bust me for having an illegal cat on campus_

**Why would you think that?**

_noah fence but you text like a boomer. also how would knowing my name help u find me unless ur actually campus security and you're looking me up in the system hmmmmm??_

**I don’t text like a boomer!**

**Okay. Point.**

**And I guess it wouldn’t. I just like knowing people’s names? Is that weird?**

_it’s charming actually_

_unless you are campus security in which case you can call meeeee_

_fitzroy!!_

**I can’t decide if it’s funny or sad that it took you two minutes to come up with that.**

_shut uppppp!! :c it’s a good name!!_

**Whatever you say! :)**

_look i just don’t want you changing ur mind and calling the dean on me okay!! like yes i KNOW there’s a no pet policy on campus your honor but LOOK AT HIM_

Amir glanced up at Porridge, now grooming his front paws, and grinned wider. 

**Yeah, I see him.**

**Image.jpg Attached**

_glad to see he’s settled in afdfdhgs_

_wait a minute_

_IS THAT LIKE A FANCY WEIGHT SET IN THE BG ARE YOU SOME KIND OF CHAD_

**They’re my roommate’s but yes, we both do sports.**

_ohhh my god. ohh my god i cant believe a chad saved my itty bitty kitty cat. such chivalry!!!_

**My name’s not Chad, though.**

_semantics!!_

_all srsness thank you for looking after him tho!!! ur a lifesaver <3_

Amir smiled softly at the dim glow of the screen.

 **Not a problem.**

_also chaddd sorry to ask more from you but would you mind watching him til i get back on campus?? i’m with my roommate buying treats for the runaway himself and we’re still ab ten minutes out :/ i kno he can be a lot but we’re gonna drive as fast as we can w/o getting pulled over_

He glanced up at where Porridge was now curled on his side, fluff gently rising and falling with each breath as he napped.

 **I think I can handle him, Fitz; don’t worry.**

_like i said. LIFESAVER_

Amir set his phone down after Fitz sent him the ETA for when he’d be back on campus, and closed his eyes for a moment. He’d been so stressed lately, with football and school taking up almost all of his time but now… he wasn’t sure if it was the runaway calico napping on his couch or something else, but he felt a comfortable warmth in his chest.

He smiled to himself, savoring the feeling for just a second until the door banged open and he heard a yelp.

“Joan, are you okay?” he asked, skidding over the paneled flooring.

His roommate shook her curls free from where they were caught in her coat, and she gave him a haphazard smile. “I’m fine. I just… I thought I saw something run at me just now? Like an animal, or…” She squinted at Amir, and groaned.

“Amir. Please don’t tell me you brought something into our apartment. You _know_ there’s a no-pets policy. And I’m allergic!”

“He — he wasn’t mine,” Amir said, a bit on the defensive. “Don’t lock me out, okay?” he said, toeing his shoes back on. “I said I’d keep him safe. I need to go find him.”

“So you’ve taken up — what, cat sitting? I thought you were swamped this term,” she chided, following him outside and locking the door behind them with a soft _click._

He looked at her, surprised, and she smiled.

“What? I let him out, so I’m going to help you find him. It’s only fair, and besides,” she said, walking to the end of the hall, “isn’t that what friends do?”

Amir smiled in spite of himself, and pulled out his phone.

 **So, uh, Fitz? I might have some bad news.**

~

“Rupert!” Cecily yelled, smacking at him as well as she could with one hand on the wheel and her eyes on the road. “Scream like that again and I will _literally_ end up crashing this car and kill us both before we can like, get our degrees or find our soulmates or whatever.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, only half meaning it. “It’s just — he lost Porridge!”

“Okay, but like, counterpoint: didn’t you lose Porridge first? And like, three times just this week?”

“Yeah, I _know,_ Cecily, but that’s not the point! I _trusted_ him,” he said emphatically. 

“And _why_ would you trust a random stranger with your cat? You know, your cat who you’ve told me (on multiple occasions!) you like better than like, 99 percent of people?”

“Relax, you’re in the one percent,” Rupert said, waving a hand at her. “And I don’t know! He just seemed… nice, I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Cecily said, somehow making it into a three-syllable-word. “Well, anyway,” she said, pulling into a free parking space, “I’m gonna bring the groceries and stuff up to the room. I can take your bag, if you want.”

“But what about —”

“He’ll be _fine,_ Rupie! He always comes home eventually, right? And you can go look for him! I just feel like traipsing around with bags of kitty litter might not be like, the most inconspicuous thing in the world. You know, since we’re like, harboring an illegal cat and all.”

“You love him.”

“I do,” she said, turning off the car. “And I’m sure it’s gonna be fine, really.” She gave Rupert a smile and waved him off.

By the time he set off, it was getting dark, cast over with dark clouds overhead. He started his search at the West end of campus, working his way toward the center after checking down each street two times over. Porridge wasn’t small by any means, but he’d never stayed out all night before, and Rupert’s worry was starting to morph into an anxiety-driven fear.

“He’s fine,” he muttered to himself, trying to trick himself into believing it.

Once he was almost at the campus’s center, it dawned on him that he _probably_ should have been checking the East side (what with Chad’s weights and all, the fact that he was a chad _at all_ should have tipped him off sooner that he might not be a Westerner), but he charged forth nonetheless.

Campus was abnormally quiet for how early it was, just an hour or so after sundown. He only passed two people walking in the other direction, and… 

He looked back involuntarily, but it was too dark to really make him out. He thought he’d gotten lucky for a second, that the hot guy from the library just so happened to be out for a walk on the street where Rupert was searching but… at a campus this size, with this many people? Unlikely. 

And if his next steps were a bit more heavy than the rest? Well, it’s not like there was anyone else around to hear.

“Porridge!” he called for what had to be the thousandth time as he rounded another corner. “Porridge, come on — Porridge!”

He ran over to the front steps of the campus cafe, where Porridge blinked up at him, bathed in the warm glow of an incandescent lamp.

“You are the worst cat in the _world,_ you know that?” he said, blinking away the relieved tears that threatened to form. “Come on.” After sending a quick text to Chad letting him know that Porridge was safe and he was off the hook (for now), Rupert wrapped him in his jacket, zipping it enough that it was plausibly deniable he was carrying a cat, and made his way back to their dorm. 

A few drops of rain fell as he fumbled with his ID, but somehow, he felt warm enough to ignore the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for grammar/sp errors most of this was written in one day!!! i'll fix them as i find them
> 
> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!!!


	2. When the Wind Goes the Other Way (or, 'There's No Crying in Football')

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all this is straight up the fastest i've ever written a fic; this one is also unbeta'd but it should be okay!! (please ignore my unfinished yoi project its ALMOST done but i have so much motivation for this and none for that rn)
> 
> i hope you're all doing okay considering the state of the world rn!! it's unprecedented times and it's scary but i hope this chap is able to be some level of comfort :)

**J, can I ask you a favor?**

**Can you print out my Emerson paper and bring it to me after practice?**

**I couldn’t really sleep last night and it completely slipped my mind.**

Rupert blinked at the bright screen, wincing immediately at the early timestamps on the texts. (And those were from two _hours_ ago! Chad must be some sort of masochist.)

 _j?? now ik how you feel when i call you chad askhfdg_

_and i would tooootally print ur paper for you but idk who you are :///_

_also i’m sorry abt your lack of sleep :( ik you prob didn’t mean to text me but i’m here to listen if you need to talk abt anything!!!_

When no immediate response came, Rupert resigned himself to actually getting out of bed and starting the day. His first class wasn’t for a few more hours, but he still needed to get the masquerade posters printed and pinned up across campus, so he dressed quickly before heading to the library’s industrial printer.

He groaned at the sight of at least ten frustrated students lined up before him, and he pulled out his phone as he made his way to the end.

 **Yikes. Sorry, Fitz. I was trying to text my roommate; I hope I didn’t wake you up! You were still at the top of my recents, so I didn’t realize.**

**And… thanks. I appreciate the offer. :)**

_of course!!!! we can walk abt it or you can just vent or w/e you need! porridge trusts you enough to come home w you so that makes you my friend_

**You… have a strange metric for judging friendships. (I’m not complaining though!)**

**I’ve just been really stressed lately, and there isn’t really anything I can do about it. Classes are starting to be a lot, and even my team’s been stressing me out. I need to keep my GPA up, though; if my grades dip at all, I could lose my scholarships and I couldn’t handle that. I just really don’t want to let my family down, and I feel like by struggling right now, I’m letting myself down? If that makes sense.**

**I don’t want to be a disappointment.**

A minute passed while Rupert struggled over his response, and his phone buzzed again.

 **I’m sorry; that’s probably way too much considering we basically just met. We can talk about something else if you want!**

_no don’t u dare apologize!! you’re stressed and i literally just gave you permission to vent so you don’t have to b sorry_

_is there a way you could either talk to your profs to get extensions or something? idk what team stuff you do but ik its a big time commitment i’m sure they’d understand_

_source: i’ve gotten extensions since i’ve been busy w club stuff and its not even sports sooo_

_or you could see if there are days ur team wouldn't need you there?? idk if thats a thing actually. i don’t wanna embarrass myself by pretending i know anything abt easterner stuff_

**I wish that was an option but I need to keep that partial scholarship too. :(**

**That’s not a bad idea about the extensions, though. I’m actually on my way to a meeting with my advisor right now; I’ll ask her what she thinks about it!**

_!!!_

_well i’m glad i could help :D_

**Thanks, Fitz. It means a lot, really.**

Rupert smiled at his phone, sliding it into his pocket as he stepped up to queue his print order. The printer whirred, and Rupert winced as he glimpsed the line behind him.

Ah, well. It was only 75 flyers. It could be worse.

After a few tedious minutes of dodging the glares of every student in line, he pulled his posters out of the dock and set them on a table, intent on evening them out before leaving the building.

Rupert glanced at his phone, a bit miffed at the lack of response before he realized he hadn’t pressed send after typing his last message. He scoffed at himself before sliding his phone into his pocket once again.

He made his way through the chilly autumn wind toward one of the student centers, posters carefully tucked under one arm as he mentally planned his route. It’d definitely be more popular with the West, but it couldn’t hurt to get at least 20 posters up in the East, too… 

For a moment, Rupert wondered if someone like Chad would even consider going to a West side masquerade, snorting at the thought of a bunch of jocks showing up in full gear before pushing the thought aside. He was glancing down at his phone, half hoping for another text, when it happened.

Rupert stepped in a slight dip in the sidewalk, and suddenly the sky rushed over him. He wanted to reach out, to try and stop his fall, but… he also _really_ didn’t want to drop and subsequently chase down all the posters he couldn’t afford to reprint.

Rupert shut his eyes tight, hoping his bag would cushion most of the impact, when… 

“You should really watch your step next time.”

He blinked, surprised at the feeling of someone holding him tight at his waist and shoulders instead of cement beneath his back.

“Oh, I… sorry,” he breathed, blinking up at the stranger with a dazed look. “You really saved me there, huh?” Rupert grinned at him, and his eyes went wide.

It was _him._ Hot Library Guy saved him _and_ his posters, and now… a dark flush stained his cheeks as he looked away with an awkward smile. It just wasn’t _fair;_ being flustered somehow made him even _cuter._

“You’re the guy from the library,” Rupert blurted, ever the master of observation.

“Um. Yes, that is… so are you.” 

Rupert raised a brow with a teasing smile, and Hot Library Guy let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I, um. I should let you go.”

“Oh, right,” he said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice as he disentangled himself from the very strong, varsity jacket-clad arms of Hot Library Guy. “Thank you for saving me. Well, more importantly, thank you for saving my posters. These took the last of my print credits.”

“Of course,” he said, smiling sheepishly as he ran a hand through his hair. They were quiet for a second before Hot Library Guy spoke up, hand still clasped behind his neck. “I’m sorry about how I acted before. I was… kind of stressed, I guess, but that’s no excuse.”

“You’re completely and absolutely fine,” Rupert said, trying not to stare at the sliver of dark skin from where his untucked shirt had ridden up a bit. “We deserved it, anyway. I know theater people are annoying on a good day, so…” He laughed, and Hot Library Guy gave him a wry smile. 

“Here,” Rupert said suddenly, an idea half formed. “Our department’s having sort of, uh. A masquerade? And I know we’re like rivals, or whatever,”he said, motioning at his jacket. “But…” he held out a poster, “you should come, if you want to. I mean, I’ll be there, so…” he cut himself off before he could embarrass himself, and hoped it wasn’t too late.

Hot Library Guy took the poster with a slight smile, glancing over it before looking back up. “Thanks. I mean, if you’ll be there, then I guess I have to go, rivalry and all.”

Rupert felt heat on his cheeks, but he grinned anyway. “Then I’ll see you there.”

~

Once they’d waved an awkward goodbye, Amir let his smile return at full force. He folded the flyer carefully, sliding it into his pocket before grabbing his phone. 

_anytime. and just so you know, i don’t think you could ever be a disappointment._

_< 3_

He felt a flush creeping back on his cheeks, and mentally chided himself. Fitz was just an affectionate person, that was all. Never mind the way his teasing made Amir grin like a fool, or the blind trust and kindness he’d shown a complete stranger. There was no reason to blush over him, none at all.

He typed out a quick response before sliding his phone back into his pocket and heading up the stairs to his advisor’s office, sending it before he could convince himself otherwise.

 **I’m glad I met you, Fitz.**

He waited at her door, knocking after a few moments even if he was a bit too early.

“Yes, yes, come in,” she called, not looking up from her paperwork. “And close the door behind you, please.”

She looked up at him, and he gave her a nervous smile as he sat down. “Hi, Atossa.”

“Hello, Amir,” she said, smiling a bit more genuinely. Atossa insisted on students calling her by name; her reasoning was that it ‘built trust and comfort,’ and at the moment, Amir couldn’t really contest that. Talking with Atossa had helped him manage his college career for two years already; even with all his stress, he didn’t see why that should change now.

“So, what brings you to my office today? Your email was a little vague.”

“Well, I guess… it’s my school-sport-life balance again. Surprise!” he said, watching her smile sadly at his feigned enthusiasm.

“Of course. Your coach reached out on your behalf already,” she said, sighing. “That grant must be very important. He told me that securing something like that could attract the attention of scouts, and because you would be vital in impressing both the donor _and_ the scouts, I need to keep your focus on the team.”

Amir’s eyes went wide, but she continued. “However, I’m not willing to do that if it means sacrificing your academics or your overall happiness, Amir. It’s entirely your decision how you choose to proceed, but I want you to know that the team will be just fine without additional grant funding, so that shouldn’t worry you too much.”

Amir was quiet. Coach was relying on _him_ to secure the grant? He was the captain, yes, but there were other players with plenty of athletic ability. And the scouts… 

“I… hadn’t known about the scouts,” he said, trying to mask his rising anxiety.

“Ah,” said Atossa, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I assumed Percival would have told you by now. You must have expected scouts at some point, though, correct? You’re a very talented player, I’m told. Although, again, you shouldn’t let your academics suffer just because you have the option of moving forward into a professional career in sports.”

“Right,” he said, still trying to process everything she’d told him. He hadn’t thought about life after college much at all, really; his parents had always told him he could do anything, and while it was meant as encouragement, it had always ended up terrifying him instead. Football made him happy, but as a career… he’d never let himself hope, before, and now, he wasn’t sure it was something he wanted at all.

But it was still something he needed to consider, and disappointing the scouts wasn’t really an option, now. Until he figured out what he wanted to do with his life… that was the best option.

“Right, okay,” he said, clearing his throat. “Well, I also wanted to talk to you about getting some academic extensions…” 

He walked out of Atossa’s office a half hour later, feeling better about his academics and worse about everything else. It wasn’t her fault Coach hadn’t told him _he_ was supposed to impress the donor, or about the scouts… and he _was_ happier hearing it from her than from Coach, he supposed. At least Atossa reminded him that he had other options, that he was a person outside of what he brought to the team.

It was just a lot to think about: his classes, his team… his future. Comfort wouldn’t fix his problems; only he could.

Amir just wished he had more time.

He pulled out his phone, half-intent on scrolling mindlessly until he got back to his dorm, but stopped as he glimpsed his top notification.

 _i’m glad i met you too <3_

A smile crept up his lips, and he slid his phone back into his pocket. Moping about his future could wait.

-

“Cecily, good news!” Rupert announced, flinging the door open after a long day of classes. Porridge zoomed over to him, crying for attention as he set his bag down.

“What? Did they _finally_ fix the air conditioning in the Language Center?”

“Better,” he said, sighing as he flopped down on the ratty couch. “Love is real again.” She quirked a brow at him, and he continued. “I invited someone to the masquerade, and he said yes, and I’m just…” He grinned, and she gave him a soft smile.

“Aw!” she cried, perching on the arm next to him. “That _is_ good. Now you have a crush, so I don’t have to feel bad about talking about Hot Track Girl like, all the time.”

He stuck his tongue out at her, and she grinned.

“Seriously though, Rupie; it’s about fuckin’ time. So… who is he? What’s his name?”

“I don’t _know_ yet! I forgot to ask. But it’s that hot jock from the library, remember him?”

She thought for a minute, and snapped her fingers. “Yes! He’s on football, right? I think I remember the jacket. Wait, _Rupert!_ You can’t start dating a _football_ guy! We’re trying to take that grant from them, remember!”

“I know, I know,” he said, waving her away. “He’s probably straight anyway, Cecily, it wasn’t like it was a real date he agreed to, anyway. I’m just…” he sighed, and she shoved him lightly.

“You’re gay, I know. Join the club.” Her expression softened when she saw his face. “Hey, come on! Heartland’s pretty progressive, so you never know! You got vibes, right?”

“Well, yeah, but…” he groaned, and Porridge hopped onto his lap. “I’m _lonely._ Maybe I just imagined them? Either way, he was so _chivalrous,_ Cecily. I mean, he literally swept me off my feet!” A moment passed, and he sobered a bit. “God, I really hope he doesn’t take our grant. I could hardly even think about it in the moment, I mean…” 

“Completely fair,” she said, nodding and cutting him off in the process. “Listen, I’m gonna put like, good vibes out for you, kay? Your prince in a letter jacket’s gonna be into guys, he’s not gonna take our grant,” she ticked them off on her fingers as she continued, “you guys are gonna start dating and get married and stuff, I’m going to be your maid of honor…” 

“Shut _up,_ Cecily,” he groaned, and she cackled before reaching for the remote.

Once they were well into some mindless reality show, Rupert pulled out his phone to check his socials and smiled when he saw a text from Chad.

 **Hey, do you want to talk about whatever? I could use a distraction right now.**

_yeah, sure!! you okay tho?_

**Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m still stressed, but talking to you helps, so…**

_flatterer._

**Yeah, maybe. You’re easier to talk to than my roommate, though. I don’t think she really gets it sometimes, and other than her, I don’t have a lot of people I’m comfortable talking to in general. My team isn’t really the nicest group, and I haven’t had a lot of time for friends lately, you know?**

_i feel that. my roommate’s pretty much my best friend, but that’s because we’ve known each other basically forever_

_believe it or not, if u can date someone, break up, and stay friends, it forges some kind of like. unbreakable soul bond. being childhood friends helps too but Still_

_but that’s beside the point. i’m trying to say that i get what u mean abt making friends. i don’t get along suuuuper well with anyone in my department, really, but i don’t have a lot of free time to meet anyone else_

_(except u of course!!)_

**You actually stayed friends with your ex and now you live together? Mad respect.**

_asdhgf it’s not like that!!! comphet’s a hell of a drug_

_we both came out to each other like two months in and it was awkward for like a day but now we’re bffs :D_

**Oh, wait, you’re gay?**

_…_

_do you have a problem with that? bc i’ll literally block you rn i don’t talk to homophobes_

**No, no! I’m bi! I just thought it was cool, I guess. I don’t know a lot of LGBT people on campus.**

_oh thank GOD okay_

_don’t scare me like that chad!!! i didn’t wanna have to block u_

**Please don’t! I like you too much for that.**

_i’m not gonna!! i like you too much too :D_

_anywayssss now that we’ve established that bit of important info_

_how’s your day been??_

**Good and bad. Met with my advisor, found out some… not great news about my team and my coach, but I did talk to a cute guy, so…**

_i hope everything’s okay w ur team!!!_

_and i hope everything goes well w ur mans ;)_

**Yeah, they’re all fine. And thanks. :)**

**How about you? How’s your day been?**

_it’s been gooood!!!_

_did some work for my department today to help prep for an event, also met a cute guy (our synergy!!), classes were chill, now me and the roomie are watchin shitty tv_

**And how’s Porridge?**

_at the moment?? screaming bc i won’t give him my popcorn_

_Image.jpg Attached_

_look at him!!! he’s so cute and i love him so much but he’s so mean :c_

**I miss him. :(**

_Image1.jpg Attached_

_Image2.jpg Attached_

_Image3.jpg Attached_

_there he is. more pics of the man himself to hold u over until he gets out and breaks into ur dorm again_

~

Amir woke with a tired smile on his face, his phone’s alarm beeping on the mattress beside him. He’d stayed up a bit late considering he had morning practice, but it was hard to stop talking to someone like Fitz. It was all so easy with him, talking about anything and everything, open and honest. 

He blinked at their last texts as he rifled absently through his closet, half laughing at their late-night ramblings. He must have passed out, he thought, smiling at Fitz’s gentle chiding for falling asleep and subsequent goodnight message.

 **Good morning, Fitz.**

He didn’t really expect anything back that early (nothing about Fitzroy struck him as a morning person), so he slipped his phone into his bag before heading to practice. It went as normal: the usual uncomfortable praise from Coach, the feeling of his teammate’s glares on his back. Coach didn’t mention the grant, and (mercifully) he didn’t mention the scouts. Amir didn’t think most of his teammates cared for him as it was; hearing Coach’s grand plan for securing Amir’s future as a professional player probably wouldn’t help matters much. 

He made a beeline for the showers, cleaning up and changing as quickly as he could before the others filtered in. He _really_ wasn’t in the mood to deal with Percy or his gang of alternates, and he needed to head back to his room and study before his poli sci quiz later that day. 

He had two texts from Fitz and a message from Joan asking when he was free for a grocery run. After texting her back, he started the short walk from the practice field to his dorm building.

 _good morning, chad!!_

_(idk how it can be a good morning if you have to wake up that early but still)_

**Sorry for the late response; I had practice.**

Amir scanned his ID at the door, half-expecting to see a calico at his side as he made his way into his room.

 _no worries!!!_

_alsoooo what is this vague ‘practice’ you keep bringing up?? i figure ur an easterner what with the whole chad thing and all so i’m assuming sports right??_

**Yeah, but if you don’t mind, I don’t really want to talk about it right now. It’s been the cause of like, 90% of my stress lately.**

_completely understandable!!_

_sorry if i crossed a line_

**No, you’re absolutely fine. I just want to keep my mind off it for now.**

**Tell me something about you instead?**

_okayyy i can do that_

_hmmm let’s see_

_welllll i also have a kind of practice sometimes but idk if a sports person like u would actually consider it ‘practice’_

**Hey, it’s rude to assume!**

_really chad??? ur gonna tell me u consider rehearsals for the theater department’s upcoming rendition of the addam’s family the same as sportsball practice for the Big Game??_

**Why not? They’re both things you have to work hard for. Shouldn’t they be given the same respect?**

_catch me; i’m abt to swoon_

_an easterner who actually respects the humble arts of the west?? i’m dreaming_

**Somehow I have no trouble believing you’re into drama.**

**And yeah, why not? Just because they’re different doesn’t mean they’re not any less important.**

_chad, ur either super naive or like, surprisingly mature_

_fingers crossed for the latter_

**I mean, I’m a junior and I’ve hated the stupid campus rivalry since I got here.**

_literally saaaame!!!!! have i mentioned how glad i am that porridge broke out and you found him so we could start talking??_

Amir grinned at his phone, looking up from his study guide to type a response every few minutes. He was half tempted to ask about the theater department’s masquerade (maybe if Fitz had a date?), but he shook his head, remembering the way the cute guy from the library had blushed before, the way he could hardly get out a coherent sentence himself.

He liked Fitz, he _did,_ but it couldn’t be in that way, right? Amir barely knew him, and besides, he’d already asked out someone else, even if it wasn't _technically_ a real date. He didn't even know Cute Library Guy's name, but... there was something about him that made Amir want to know more, want to know who he was and what he did for fun and how his eyes shone in low light. And just because he wanted to know more about Fitz too, well... that didn't mean he felt the _same_ for both of them, right? 

Amir shook his head. He couldn't risk having feelings for Fitz. He was already one of Amir's best friends; no occasional butterflies were worth sacrificing that (not to mention the other guy Fitz had brought up before). The guy from the library was easier to wonder about, to actually like romantically. If it didn't work out, there was nothing lost, no harm done.

They might even know each other, Amir realized suddenly. Fitz and Cute Library Guy were in the same department, right? Why else would he be handing out posters for the theater department? Maybe they were even friends.

He laughed at the thought of the flustered guy from the library and confident, outspoken Fitz together. Probably not, then.

“Hey, Amir, I’m not gonna be back until late; then we can head out” Joan said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Just letting you know.” She dropped her keys into her running bag, and toed on her shoes. 

“Okay,” he said, smiling in spite of himself. “Have a nice run.”

“Thanks,” she said, and paused halfway out the door. “Oh, and Amir?”

“Yeah?”

“You seem… different, lately. Happier. I’m glad.” And with a smile, the door latched behind her.

He glanced at a new notification on his phone, and laughed to himself. She wasn’t wrong.

Amir finished reviewing his guide with a few minutes to spare, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he headed out to class. He was barely down the block when he glimpsed a familiar flash of fur disappearing around a statue, and he laughed as he walked closer. 

**Remember how you said you were glad Porridge got out earlier?**

**Image.jpg Attached**

_RU KIDDING ME_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also i think i finally figured out their majors?? i don't know if they'll even come up in this fic but here they are:  
> rupert: double in english and history with minors in theater and classics  
> amir: undecided but leaning toward poli sci or management with minors in ethics and leadership studies  
> cecily: sociology and journalism with minors in theater and communications  
> joan: international business with minors in sports medicine and leadership studies
> 
> i might change these up but for now i like em!!


	3. The Reason I'm Smiling (When There's Nothing to Smile About)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know im a week late but s3 CONFIRMED BABEYYYY!!!!
> 
> apologies for the lateness on this chap!! it's super long to make up for it <3
> 
> tw for minor alcohol use! everybody's safe just thot i'd mention it here in case :)

Amir smoothed the fabric of his jersey, ready to head out to afternoon practice when his phone buzzed on the bench. Fitz had been quiet today (rehearsals running long, he thought), so he unlocked his phone to check the message, just in case it was something important.

 _heeey chad quick question_

**I don’t have long, but shoot.**

_i said quick!!!_

_anyways it’s been 30 minutes i’m going crazy_

_we’re having a department wide argument: is lee pace gangly or nah??_

**Who?**

_HHHH idk what i expected from a sports person_

_Image.jpg attached_

**Should I know who that is?**

_you should but i’m not surprised that you don’t :((_

_i say he’s not like, jacked, but he’s not noodley either_

_roomie says (and i quote) “he looks like a wacky inflatable tube man” but she’s a lesbian so her opinion on men comes with a grain of salt_

**I mean, he’s really tall but not really built? So yeah, I’d say he is.**

_chad u TRAITOR_

_just bcos he’s a giraffe doesn’t mean he’s gangly!!! he’s a normal lookin dude!!!!_

**He’s gangly, hate to break it to you.**

_how am i supposed to recover from this betrayal :///// i was hoping an outside opinion would shut them up but noooo_

Amir laughed, setting his shoes inside his locker before slamming the door. Most of the team had cleared out by now, but he still had a _little_ bit of time before practice officially started. 

**Your department sounds crazy. How do you all keep from strangling each other?**

_oh, u know_

_too busy trying to work on plays to get the job done >:3_

_really though, we just reach out to each other and talk when things get serious_

_we’re not all best friends but i love em all anyway!!_

“Hiding in the locker room again, Captain?” 

Amir startled, phone slipping out of his hand as he looked up.

“Seriously? Cedric, look. He’s on his phone.” Percy said derisively from the entrance to the field. “Do you even care about this team? My father’s making an announcement today, and you can’t even be bothered to be out on the field on time.”

It was hardly the first time he’d dealt with Percy’s snide comments, but the words still hurt. Percy was the coach’s son, so there’d always been a weird, one-sided rivalry between them. Amir wasn’t sure if Percy was jealous of his captaincy or if he just wanted to impress his father, but either way, Amir knew being an alternate wasn’t enough for him.

“Sorry to make you wait,” Amir said evenly, reaching for his phone and dropping it in his bag. It wasn’t worth sinking to his level, he reasoned. Even if Percy had a knack for triggering his imposter syndrome, lashing out would only make it worse.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Percy, motioning for Cedric to follow him out. “Some captain.”

Amir followed them at a distance, squinting in the bright autumn light as he stepped out of the locker room. The team was waiting in the end zone, most of them sat before where Coach stood at the edge of the track.

“Amir, so glad you could finally join us,” Coach said, narrowing his eyes. “Sit down, all of you, and listen up.”

He cleared his throat, settling his hands on his hips as he paced in front of the team. “So, I’m sure you all haven’t forgotten about our game against Hinterland Tech this weekend.” 

The team mumbled their assent, and he nodded before continuing. “Well, I got some more information about some scouts that might attend, and about the grant donor some of you might remember from my email last week.

“Now, I want to level with you boys. It’s not like we _need_ this grant money, but it _would_ look really good for our team if we had some endorsement from a Western donor. More importantly, we’d get to take grant money away from Lavinia and her pathetic excuse of a theater department.”

Amir was rolling his eyes at yet another mention of Coach’s longtime feud with the drama chair (rooted in some misunderstanding 10 years ago, or so he had heard) when something cold formed in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t really put it together until now: if the grant was between the football team and the drama department… 

Obviously Amir knew the West always struggled with getting adequate funding; it was one of the main reasons for the campus rivalry. He knew the theater department was hurting too; the masquerade was part of their fundraising efforts, and Fitz seemed equally nervous and excited since he hoped the party would sway the grant donor as well as the alums who usually donated.

Fitz had been working constantly to prepare for the masquerade (if his constant texts were anything to go off), but Amir hadn’t really considered just how important getting that funding was for him, for his entire department. And Coach wanted to take that from them for some stupid _rivalry?_

“So, of course, we’ll be counting on our captain to impress the scouts, but we’re going to need you to personally impress the donor and lock down that grant money, too. Not only will it not go to Lavinia,” he said with a satisfied grin, “but the donor has connections in the professional world, or so I hear. Plus, you might impress the scouts even more if you secure that grant right in front of them, Amir. You win, I win, the whole team wins.” He flashed a too-bright smile at Amir. “Right, captain?”

Amir nodded listlessly, trying to listen as Coach moved on to listing their training regime, but his mind kept straying to Fitz: all the work he’d done trying to save the department he loved, and how Amir might be forced to take that from him.

It wasn’t like he had a choice between his future and some stranger he barely knew ~~really liked~~ , right?

~

Rupert flicked through his photos idly, searching for the perfect picture of Porridge to cheer Chad up. He’d been vague about why he was upset, but Rupert assumed it was something to do with sports. It was _always_ something to do with sports. It seemed like Chad had all the stress of daily rehearsal without any of the things that made it all worth it: finally nailing a scene runthrough, downtime with his castmates, late-night dinners with the cast and crew.

Or, you know, teammates. Whatever. It really wasn’t _that_ different, after all.

“Wow,” said Cecily, leaning against the wall, stack of posters forgotten on the ground beside her. “You’re like, _really_ hung up on him, aren’t you?”

“What?” Rupert asked, half listening as he scrolled through his phone. “I don’t know what you mean.” He smiled, sending a particularly excellent photo of Porridge wearing a doll-sized pink cowboy hat Cecily found in the dressing room last term.

“Oh my _god,_ Rupie, just let me make fun of you for like, five minutes. You make fun of me for having a dumb crush; I should get to make fun of you for texting Hot Library Guy with that dopey grin on your face.”

“Cecily, come on,” he said, “it’s not — wait, what?” He looked up at her and shook his head. “I’m not texting him; I don’t even have his number.”

Cecily blinked at him, and her mouth dropped open. “So you’re telling me you _haven’t_ been texting Hot Library Guy? Who is it, then?”

Rupert mumbled out an answer, feeling heat to the tips of his ears as Cecily’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Shut _up,_ Rupie! You’re still texting the guy who found Porridge? But you’ve been all,” she motioned at him before sighing exasperatedly. “Literally, look at you right now! You’re blushing; you _like_ him! God, I didn’t know you were in a _love triangle!”_

“What? No, it’s not like that, really! Chad’s just a texting friend, that’s all.” He crossed his arms defensively, and she laughed.

“Seriously, Rupert, you’re worse than me with Joan.”

“Who?”

Her eyes flashed, and she grinned. “That’s her _name,_ Hot Track Girl. Isn’t that like, so pretty? I was asking around about her, all very casual, of course, and someone in my comm course _finally_ told me her name. And like, lowkey I’m sad that I don’t have an excuse to remind everyone about how hot she is everytime I bring her up anymore, but,” she took a breath, “They’ll see for themselves once we start dating.”

“I doubt that would stop you,” Rupert said with a snort.

He laughed as he reached for another stack of posters, and Cecily shoved him gently. “Hey Rupie? Fuck _off,_ ‘kay?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, reaching for a push pin as he straightened a poster on the bulletin board. Cecily flicked through her phone, looking out over the quad before letting out a gasp.

“Oh my god, Rupie! Did you know I’m like, psychic in addition to being the fiercest double major on campus?”

Rupert hummed noncommittally, following Cecily’s gaze.

A girl rounded the corner of the English building, her head turned as she called to someone just behind her. He immediately recognized her as Hot Track Girl — Joan, whatever — from all the little details Cecily couldn’t shut up about. 

She grinned brightly, turning her head back at whoever she was with as she laughed. Her dark curls fell to her mid-back, pulled back in a loose ponytail that settled on her shoulder as she turned back around. She wore a baggy hoodie over a pair of running shorts, and _okay,_ Cecily wasn’t kidding. She _was_ jacked.

“I gotta say, I didn’t really think muscles were your thing, but I think I get it now. You sure she’s in your league?” he teased, but Cecily didn’t even shove him.

“Cecily, c’mon, you know I think you deserve the world, I wasn’t trying to be mean…”

He trailed off, realizing that she literally hadn’t looked away, a dopey grin on her face. “Okay, lovebird. Don’t be weird; stop staring at her—“

All well and good advice — that is, until he saw who Joan was walking with. Of _course_ Hot Track Girl was friends with Hot Library Guy. An involuntary flush crept up his cheeks as he turned to Cecily to make a joke about double dating to deflect, but she was still watching them intently.

“Well, clearly this is a sign,” she said, mostly to herself. “I’m gonna shoot my shot, ‘kay? Back in a sec!”

“Cecily, wait!” Rupert winced as she ran over to them. She hadn’t even noticed Hot Library Guy (he didn’t know why he was surprised that her figurative tunnel vision had turned literal, but…)

“Joan! Hey!” she called, grinning, and Rupert had no choice but to run after her. Joan looked over, eyes widening in shock before a resigned acceptance settled over her features.

“Hi, Cecily,” she said, face darkening in an embarrassed flush.

Cecily froze, and Rupert worried for a second that she might actually faint before he caught up. She’d done it before, after all. 

“You know my _name?!”_

Joan rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. “I mean… it’s not like it’s weird or anything. We had ethics together, freshman year? I never talked to you, since it was such a big class, but you were hard to ignore. Didn’t you fight with the professor on the first day about how all the books he assigned were sexist? I mean, you were right, but…”

“Oh, totally. Something like that, yeah.” Cecily just gave her a lovesick grin, and Rupert slung an arm over her shoulders as he finally reached them. Step one: stop Cecily from tanking her love life. Step two: actually talk to Hot Library Guy (find out his name!) without stumbling over his words.

“Sorry about my friend, here,” he said, wincing slightly as Cecily elbowed him in the ribs. He kept his eyes on Joan, grinning sheepishly as Cecily wiggled out from under his arm and rolled her eyes.

Joan smiled slightly. “It’s fine, really…” she began, and then Rupert made the mistake of (finally!) looking at Hot Library Guy.

He was giving Rupert a wry kind of smile, kept just for them like a secret between friends. Rupert smiled back, but his nerves twisted it into a kind of nervous grimace. He settled for an awkward wave, and Hot Library Guy started laughing and oh _no._

“Uh… hi,” was all he managed to get out before devolving into a mild gay panic.

~

Amir hadn’t expected that some girl would ambush Joan on their walk, but more importantly, he hadn’t expected her to be friends with the cute poster guy.

He and Amir were just smiling at each other as Joan and the other girl (Cecily?) talked. Amir could hardly make out their conversation, focusing instead on the spray of freckles across Cute Poster Guy’s nose, the dimple in his cheek, the way he glanced at the ground before looking back into Amir’s eyes.

“So, uh… how are you?” Amir asked, internally kicking himself. He couldn’t even manage a _how are you_ without getting nervous? He was the captain of the football team, for god’s sake. Come _on._

He laughed a little too loudly in response, and it _shouldn't_ have been that cute, but Amir felt his heart skip anyway.

“Better now that you’re here. See? Only a few posters left to do!” he said, hefting the (still fairly significant) stack of papers from where they rested against his hip. “Hey, who knows, maybe I can actually finish putting them up without falling into your arms again!”

He put his hand to his forehead, leaning backward just a bit with an exaggerated expression before shaking his head with a grin. He looked up at Amir, and the words came before his brain could even register them.

“Hey, do you want to, um, hang out sometime maybe?” Amir said, watching his eyes go wide. “Or um, not hang out, but… do something together?” He paused and took a breath before continuing. “What I’m trying to say is… do you want to go out and spend time together sometime?”

Cute Poster Boy’s cheeks went pink. “Yes! I mean, uh. Yeah, yeah that’d be awesome. I can’t um, right now, what with the posters and all but… maybe later?” The nervous look on his face vanished as a teasing smile crept up his cheeks. “Although, I’m not sure if I should.”

Amir got a sinking feeling in his chest. “Oh. Uh. Why not?” he asked, almost sheepish. _Way to go, Amir. Very smooth. You don’t even know his name yet and you already ruined it._

Cute Poster Boy pushed his bangs out of his face, and flashed a cocky grin. “I just mean, it’s not very gentlemanly, asking someone out when you barely know them,” he said, resting his free hand against his chest like a flustered Victorian. “I don’t even know your name, after all.”

Amir extended a hand and bowed slightly, starting to smile as Cute Poster Boy laughed. “My name is Amir, good sir. And yours?”

“Rupert,” he said, taking Amir’s hand lightly as he bowed dramatically in return. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Yeah, it is,” Amir said, glancing up from where their hands were still joined to look at Rupert’s grinning face.

Rupert wouldn’t have been his first guess, but the name fit him as well as his clothes: a floral button down, the top deliberately undone, fitted slacks green as the ivy curling around the buildings, glitter smudged on his face from the posters under his arm. 

Old-fashioned and elegant, but at the same time, nontraditional in the best way possible. 

“Amir, you’re staring,” he teased, and Amir felt a fresh wave of nerves before noticing his self-satisfied grin.

“That a problem?” he shot back, matching his tone.

“Not at all.”

Suddenly, he was pulled to the side, and Rupert’s hand slid out of his grip. Cecily stepped back a bit, and Joan settled her arm around his lower back. He flinched slightly, tense as her arm against his back. 

“Um, Joan…?”

She gave him a meaningful look, silently urging him to calm down before painting on a smile for the others. “Like I said, though. My _boyfriend_ and I have to get going. Come on, Amir.”

Amir opened his mouth to protest, but Joan was already giving them a noncommittal wave and leading him away. He turned to explain, but he hardly understood what was happening himself. He caught Rupert’s eye, and a rush of guilt hit him at Rupert’s outstretched hand, at the raw hurt in his eyes.

Rupert looked down, and Amir felt himself turn away, following Joan as they rounded the corner and walked out of sight.

~  
_chad :(((_

_NEVER START CRUSHING ON A STRAIGHT BOY_

_ESPECIALLY A TAKEN STRAIGHT BOY :CCC_

Amir unlocked his phone, laughing in spite of himself.

 **That sucks, Fitz, but isn’t that rule number one?**

_listen. LISTEN. i was super closeted before i came to heartland so p much all my crushes were on straight boys_

_the heart wants what the heart wants and apparently that’s for me to fall in unrequited love forever~_

_i’ll get over it i’m just :/ rn_

“Hey, thanks for covering for me,” said Joan, pulling him back to reality. “Cecily’s really nice and all but… I don’t really have time for a girlfriend _and_ track _and_ school.” She paused, and looked down at the ground. “I wish she’d just get that through her head and give up on me. It’s not like I _want_ to keep shutting her down, it’s just…” She sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve never been good with… feelings, and all that.” 

Amir looked at her, wanting to be upset, but catching himself. It wasn’t her fault, really. She was just as confused and hurt as he was, after all.

“Joan,” he said quietly, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice for her sake. “I know we have an unspoken agreement, but… you can't just use me as your beard without asking me first, okay?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Okay? I didn’t mean to overstep, but… why does it matter? They’re just Westerners. Not like we’ll ever really see them again.”

“Maybe not _now,”_ he muttered, and Joan stopped, concerned.

“Amir?” Her voice was soft. “Tell me what’s going on. Please. You’re my friend, but I need to understand before I can help.”

He sighed, halfway through brushing it off when he remembered something Fitz had said.

_Reach out to each other, and talk when things get serious._

Amir took a breath, staring at the ground before starting to speak. “It’s that guy she was with. I… I don't know him that well, but I think I really like him. I _know_ I really like him. And I kind of already asked him on a date? But now he’s going to think… actually, I don’t know what he’s going to think, but I’m sure it’s not good.”

Her eyes widened in realization.

“You were — oh god, Amir, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… I didn't really think you were interested in relationships at _all,_ let alone with someone from the West…” she trailed off, hands twisting in the pocket of her hoodie as she stared at the ground. “That’s not an excuse, though.”

“It’s fine,” he said, and he tried to mean it. It wasn’t her fault, not really. She hadn’t known, how could she have? They were close friends, but it was always so hard for them to talk about things like that. The _important_ things.

She gave him a sympathetic look, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you.”

He sighed resolutely, and looked her in the eye. “You don’t have to. I should have told you; it’s not your fault. Just… from now on, can we start talking to each other about this stuff? I know it’s easier to keep it light when we don’t talk about… feelings, or whatever, but…” he trailed off, organizing his thoughts for a moment. “I want us to be the kind of friends that can support each other one hundred percent, you know? And we can’t do that for each other until we’re both open about everything; even if it’s scary.”

She nodded, muttering something about ragweed as she sniffed and swiped at her eyes. “I want that too, for us. And I’m glad we can work on it together,” she said, giving him a slight smile. “So, if we’re doing feelings now, I’ll go first so I can’t wimp out.” She took a breath, held it, and let it go.

“I actually… _really_ like Cecily. She’s really smart, and she’s not afraid of what other people think, and… I don’t know. I think I’ve liked her since I first saw her, but… dating scares me. And we’re _so_ different, you know? I don’t think it would work out, so it’s better to save the effort and just leave it be. At least, that’s how I justify it.”

She looked like she was still trying to convince herself, but she continued nonetheless.

“Sometimes I think, oh, I’ll start dating once I can find a happy middle between track and class and a social life, but even though I’m happy with my times and my grades, it’s still not enough. I keep inventing excuses to avoid a relationship, and I’m not sure why.” She laughed mirthlessly, eyes cast down. “It’s not like dating could be any more terrifying than that girl from Midland I faced in the 1600 meter last year. I’m just… scared, and I’m not sure how to stop it.”

“Joan…” he started, voice sympathetic, but she just shrugged and stayed silent. “It’s okay to be scared of something like that.” He didn’t know where the advice was coming from, but she was looking at him again, so it seemed like a good start. 

“You’re the bravest person I know, but being vulnerable with another person is terrifying for _everyone._ It doesn’t mean you won’t be able to put yourself out there eventually.”

She sniffled again, and he looked away. “I’m probably the worst person in the world to be giving you advice, but… I really think you’re going to be okay, J. Just be patient with yourself.”

Joan stayed quiet, and he didn’t push her further. They walked back to their dorm in silence, and Amir was fiddling with their lock when she finally spoke. 

“Thank you, Amir. I don’t really like thinking about it, but… you might be right. Either way, I feel a little better. So, thanks.”

Amir looked up at her, a little surprised, but happy. “Of course.”

He pushed the door open, and she followed him in before continuing. 

“Things might take a little longer for me, and that’s okay. But we’re pretty similar Amir, dealing with school and sports and everything, and I think…” she sighed, trying to put the words together. “I know it sounds hypocritical, _believe_ me, but… I think following through with this guy… it might help you find that happy middle. I mean, you give too much of yourself to school and sports right now, and it’s killing you.”

He opened his mouth in protest, and she arched a brow in response.

“I saw you studying until midnight yesterday, Amir. You know I’m right.” He rolled his eyes, and she smiled at him sympathetically. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is stepping back a little might be good for you. You need to actually have fun while you’re here, and he seems like he could help you out with that. You’re my best friend. I want to help you be happy, and… he makes you happy, so…” She shrugged. “Just be honest with him, and with yourself, and if it works out, then great! If it doesn’t, there’s a million people who would be happy to meet you and luckier to love you.” 

Amir’s mind caught on her last sentence, and he felt his cheeks darken as the jumbled puzzle of his thoughts finally clicked into place. 

_i’m glad i met you too <3_

It was easier being upset over a stranger than to accept falling for a friend, apparently. He really did like Rupert, but Fitz… it was just different. He’d kept himself from thinking of Fitz that way, but Joan was right. If he was honest with himself… well, only one of them had listened to him, made him laugh at nothing at all.

Joan looked at him, expecting a response for a minute before shrugging. “It’s a lot to think about. Truce on emotions for a little bit?”

He nodded gratefully, hoping it was enough to show her how much she appreciated her. From the way she smiled, it was.

~

**I’m sorry Fitz, I really am. I might not know how it feels to fall for a straight guy, but I know it must suck.**

_you’d b right!!! ik i’ll get over it eventually but i’m bummed rn :C_

Amir fumbled with his buttons one-handed, trying to formulate a response as he tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair. 

A paper slid out of the pocket, and Joan frowned as she smoothed it out on the table. “The West’s having a masquerade ball?” she called over to him, and he groaned. “Were you going to this?” Her voice had an almost teasing lilt, but she waited for his answer with an expectant look.

“Yeah, I wanted to go with…” _Rupert’s not going to want to go with you now. He barely knew you, anyway._ “It doesn’t matter. I’m not sure if I’ll go anymore, honestly.” He kept his voice passably level, shrugging as he dropped onto the couch.

“Ah,” she said, a look of shame settling over her features as the realization hit. “Well, if you still wanted to go, I’ll come with as moral support. I won’t wear a ridiculous costume or anything, but… the offer’s on the table.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he said, and she shot him a thumbs up before turning to rifle through the fridge. He frowned in thought, and leaned toward her in his chair. “Actually… hang on, can we un-truce it on emotions? I have an idea, but I want to run it by someone actually rational.”

Joan tilted her head, listening intently as he explained about Fitz and grinning when he told her what he was thinking. “Well, what are you waiting for, then?”

He typed out a few lines before clearing the whole thing. He didn’t have to script things with Fitz, that wasn’t how they worked. He sent a few sentences, and clicked his phone off as he waited for a reply. The tight feeling in his chest was starting to fade, and Amir let out a happy sigh as he flopped down on the couch, phone at his side.

~

Rupert sighed as he rolled over on his messy covers, his pity-party music playing just a bit over regulation volume. Yeah, he cried a little over some stupid crush. What about it? Amir was nice, he was funny, he was… just stringing him along, apparently. 

It was his own fault, he reasoned. He fell in love so _easily,_ it ruined any chance of an actual relationship. He’d get invested, the other person wouldn’t, rinse and repeat. The last bit of him that was still a hopeful romantic thought it might be different this time, but… 

There was a knock on his door, and Rupert grumbled as Cecily nudged it open with her foot. 

“Hey,” she said, stepping into his room. She was dressed in a hoodie and sweats, holding a carton of ice cream in one hand and a bottle of cheap wine in the other. “I’m done moping for now, and you should be too. It’s time for Broken Hearts Movie Night, c’mon.”

“Is that something we do?” Rupert grumbled, but shuffled out of bed nonetheless. 

“It’s in the roommate bylaws, I’m pretty sure,” she said offhandedly, padding her way to the couch. “Look. I got the nice plastic cups and curly straws and everything!”

He plopped down next to her, and she flicked through her DVD case (mostly pre-owned romcoms) before sticking it in her laptop’s disk drive and connecting it to the tv. Rupert patted the couch, and Porridge made a quiet noise before jumping up deftly. Of course, he immediately curled up next to Cecily (she shot him a gleeful smile, and he tossed a pillow at her). 

The movie started, and Rupert gratefully accepted the opportunity to think about anything other than his own depressing love life. He and Cecily chatted over the film, pointing out their favorite parts and talking about class and rehearsal in tandem, and maybe it was just the wine, but he _was_ starting to feel a bit better. 

(“Literally though? Fuck every man except Matty!” she said through a mouthful of ice cream, and he gasped in faux offense as she pointed her spoon at Mark Ruffalo on the screen.)

Cecily paused the movie about halfway through to use the bathroom, and Rupert checked his phone (a bit sheepishly after being unavailable for the past few hours). He had a couple emails from his professors, a text from Lorelai asking about the ensemble in the scene they’d been working on that day, and two texts from Chad. At least those weren’t from _too_ long ago.

 **Hey, Fitz.**

**You’re going to the masquerade ball, right? Not just planning it?**

He frowned at the screen in confusion for a second before replying.

 _yeah that’s the plan?_

_can i ask whyyyy?_

Chad’s response came remarkably fast.

 **Would it cheer you up to go with another gay with a mildly broken heart?**

Rupert’s thumbs stilled on the keyboard as a fluttery feeling settled in his stomach. _Play it cool._ It was probably just a platonic thing, a nice offer from a good friend. That’s what he and Chad were — _friends,_ just people who texted each other all the time, listening to the important things and telling dumb jokes just to make the other smile.

Okay, so the hopeful romantic in him apparently hadn’t _completely_ died yet. Better to overcompensate, then.

_CHAD ARE YOU ASKING ME ON A DATE?!? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_

_in all seriousness yes absolutely! i mean i cant like pick you up or be picked up or whatever since i have to host but. i’ll be there and i’ll look for you??_

**Save me a dance?**

_of course <3_

“Rupert, you're not allowed to smile! It’s broken hearts night!” Cecily chided him as she collapsed onto the couch beside him, but her voice was soft. “You texting Chad again?”

Rupert looked away, but his flushed cheeks gave him away.

“Good. You deserve someone to get over that Amir guy with!” She sat up straighter on the couch just to sigh and let her shoulders sag exasperatedly. “God, I can’t _believe_ Joan is dating him. He’s the captain of the football team, did you know? He’s our _enemy_ right now, at least until we take that grant money from right under their overfunded noses. Then we can go back to hating him for like, personal reasons.”

Her voice broke on the last sentence, and she huffed as Rupert pulled her into a one-armed hug. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, sipping her wine dejectedly. “I was just so excited to see her that for a moment, I lived in a world where she wasn’t straight.”

Rupert reached for his plastic cup, clinking it against hers with a sympathetic smile. “Cheers to that.”

~

_believe it or not but im actually asking for a friend: how do i make someone feel better after crushing on a straight person??_

**Have their dashing text partner ask them to a masquerade ball?**

_hahaha ur hysterical chad. but alas no this is for my friend :c shes really crushed_

**I wish I could help but honestly, I’m having an equal yet opposite problem with my roommate. She likes this girl that’s obviously into her too, but I think she’s too scared to do anything about it so she’s pretending that nothing’s happening.**

_okay thats waaaay worse i take back asking for advice_

_at least mine can be solved with like_

_ice cream and a few tinder dates_

_yours needs like_

_soul searching n stuff_

**I know. :(**

**We’re working on it. Hopefully she makes a move soon. :)**

~

“I can’t believe it’s tomorrow already,” Cecily mused, taping a streamer more securely in place. “It feels like forever since we started planning.”

“Cecily, it’s been like, two weeks.” Rupert grinned at her, stepping back to check if the decorations were even. 

“I _know,_ but still! You did good. We’re gonna make _so_ much money.”

“Here’s hoping,” he muttered, adjusting a frame back to level. “Lavinia’s been really on edge at rehearsal lately; I can’t deal with that _and_ the three essays I’m supposed to be working on.”

Cecily started to respond, but stopped abruptly as Lavinia’s voice echoed from her office.

“No, no — _listen_ to me, okay? We’ll _get_ the funding, we always do. And we’ll get the grant money, too, you’ll see! So I don’t see why you have to take that tone with me—”

Lavinia let out an exasperated sigh, staring angrily ahead as she listened. After a moment, she laughed scornfully, leaning forward in her chair. 

“You’re really telling me now, _right before our fundraiser,_ that we need twice as much as we usually take in? And what if we can’t do that?”

Her eyes went wide, and her shoulders slackened. “I… see.” She nodded, and said a quick goodbye before hanging up and burying her face in her hands. Cecily took a step forward, but Rupert stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head with a finger at his lips.

 _Give her a second,_ he mouthed, and sure enough, Lavinia sighed loudly and stood up.

 _“Christ,_ what am I going to do? One production a _year…_ and this department will be lost without my guidance. I can’t _believe_ a college with _this_ high of tuition can’t afford to keep a drama department!” She ran a hand through her meticulously styled hair, and they both stepped back instinctively when she glanced toward the door.

Cecily’s hands were white-knuckled on the tape dispenser as she ushered Rupert away from the door. Her eyes were bright, from tears or anger, he couldn’t tell. _“Oh,_ no,” she hissed. “Not today. First that dumb jock takes Joan, now he wants to take our whole department? I don’t _think so._

“Well, what are we going to do?” Rupert whispered back. “It’s not like we have any more ideas, or any more time, for that matter! Let’s just face it, Cecily. Unless some _miracle_ happens in the space of now and tomorrow, we’re going to lose Lavinia, we’re going to basically lose the department…” 

“Come _on;_ if anyone can pull it off, it’s us! We’ll think of something; I’m great with ideas, and you’re not so bad all the time.”

He looked at her helplessly. “You really think so?”

She grinned, dark eyes flashing. “I _know_ so.”

~

Rupert was slumped across the couch, half-watching reality tv while he scratched behind Porridge’s ears. _Two pity parties in two days,_ he thought. New record.

“Rupert, come on. You can’t mope _all day,_ you’re totally bringing down the vibe. The department’s gonna be _fine,_ don’t worry! I’m already working on it.”

“Porridge doesn’t seem to mind,” he said, sinking farther into the couch.

She scrutinized him for a second before resting a hand on her hip. “Porridge is a _cat,_ Rupert. As long as someone’s petting him, he’s happy. You, on the other hand? I can feel your negative energy from all the way my room! You’re not even texting Chad!” she said, motioning to where his phone sat abandoned on the table.

“Well, I’m not exactly in a good mood right now! I’m angry, and I’m scared, and… there’s nothing I can really do to help. I can’t think of anything, and there’s only one day left, and then…” He squinted at her. “What are you doing?”

“Multitasking,” she said, unlocking his phone. “I _said_ I had the department thing covered, okay? Now I’m fixing you.”

“Cecily, really, what are you —”

He just heard the tinny sound of a ringback under the sound of her laugh.

~

Amir sat in bed, making notes on Coach’s list of practice drills and trying to pretend it wasn’t ten o’clock already. Joan had lectured him on working late when he had morning practice, but he needed to check it over. Their game against Hinterland was only two days away, and even if some of his players might disagree, he wanted to give them their best shot at winning.

He winced at the thought of the scouts, the grant money, his career on the line— 

Amir shook his head. He could have an anxiety spiral _later._ He had work to finish.

And so, naturally, his ringtone chose that moment to go off (louder than it had any business being, really.) His heart rate returned to normal after a few seconds, and he glanced at the screen to see who had decided to call him so late. A very rude spam caller, he figured. 

His screen was lit up bright white, and he squinted at it for a moment until his eyes adjusted. 

A familiar mix of while, pastel orange and grey stared back at him. It was a blurry picture of Porridge, the same picture he’d set as Fitz’s contact photo— 

_Fitz_ was displayed in large white letters on the screen, just a few inches above the answer button. 

His heart raced, but it didn’t feel like his usual anxiety; instead of too many thoughts rushing through his mind, he sat with an easy conviction.

He pressed the answer button, and let out a breath.

A voice came through the speaker, “Seriously, you’re being such an asshole! Give it back!”

Someone cackled, and a staticky rustling cut off their next words. 

He heard an exasperated sigh and the slamming of a door, and even that made his heart skip. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, my roommate, she took my phone— ” 

_Fitz,_ he thought, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I haven’t had the best day, so I was kind of moping, you know how it is, and she got sick of it and she knows I like you — I mean, not that I… I mean, I do like you, a lot actually! But she um. Took my phone and called you. To make me feel better. So that’s that.”

His voice was higher than Amir expected, though that could’ve just been his anxious tone. He sounded almost familiar, he mused, though it was hard to really tell with the way the call faded in and out. (Shitty campus reception.)

“It’s okay,” he said, trying to keep his tone level. Just because he realized he really _did_ like Fitz, it was no excuse to start panicking now. 

He could save that for the masquerade.

“Oh, that’s… good, okay. _God,_ sorry I forgot how to talk like a person for a second there. I’m not usually this nervous— not that I’m nervous! It’s just been a day, you know? It’s nice to talk to you, though.”

Amir set his notes off to the side, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning in the corner of his headboard and the wall. “It’s nice to talk to you too,” he said, wincing as his voice cracked. “Anyways, uh. How has your day been?”

A loud sigh came over the speaker. “It’s just department stuff. And I _know_ it’s out of my hands but… I can’t help being worried about it. I’m doing what I can, what with the masquerade and all, but I still don’t think it’s enough.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Amir asked tentatively. Fitz seemed stressed enough as it was, but if talking might help him, then he had to ask.

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s getting late, and it’s not exactly fun to listen to,” he said, laughing slightly. “How about you? I still don’t know specifics about your ‘sports stuff,’ and I’m not sure if you want to keep it that way, but I’d like to know if you’d like to tell me.”

Amir smiled wryly at that. “Thanks, Fitz. It means a lot, really, but… it’s the same as why you don’t want to talk about your department thing. It’s stressful and sad and… overwhelming. I appreciate it, though,” he said, pretending that was the whole truth. 

“Yeah, of course,” Fitz said, voice soft. 

He didn’t want Fitz to hate him for being his rival for the grant money as much as he didn’t want to rush the real parts of their relationship. They were friends, but the more he told Fitz, the more vulnerable and exposed he felt. He’d get there eventually, he promised himself, but it was easier to hold back for now. 

“So, how’s planning the masquerade going?” Amir asked, adjusting the pillows against the wall so he could get comfortable.

Fitz launched into a monologue on the struggles of trying to throw a campus-wide party with only two weeks to prepare. Amir flipped off his light, a smile playing at his lips. He listened intently as Fitz recounted how, exactly, he’d persuaded approximately six department heads to attend, chiming in with a few “Mhm”s and “Really?”s when the conversation lulled.

“I’m talking way too much,” he said suddenly, and Amir opened his eyes at the change in tone. 

“No, it’s okay! I like hearing you talk,” he said, smiling and letting his eyes fall shut again. When Fitz was talking… it’s not that his anxieties disappeared completely from the back of his mind, but they seemed smaller, somehow.

“But… I want to hear you talk too,” he said, as if it were a simple truth. Amir didn’t have a way with words like he did, he couldn’t tell funny stories or spout interesting facts, and Fitz must have picked up on that over the weeks they’d known each other.

But he still wanted to listen.

Something warm and delicate bloomed in his chest, and Amir smiled to himself as heat rushed to his cheeks. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine he wasn’t alone.

Fitz hummed in thought for a second, and Amir heard something he was pretty sure was a finger snap.

“Your roommate! How’s she?”

Amir quirked a brow in surprise. “Uh, fine? I didn’t see a lot of her today since she had cross country, but…”

“Chad, that’s not what I mean! I _know_ you guys are like, super fit or whatever; you don’t have to brag. No, did she make a move yet?”

 _“Oh,”_ he said, pretending he didn’t hear the first half of what Fitz said for his own sake. “Not yet, but we’ve been trying to plan out something like a confession. Or, realistically, a declaration of friendship while she works on getting comfortable with romance.”

Fitzroy sighed on the other end of the line. “That’s so exciting! _My_ roommate’s still getting over her crush, so I don’t get that sweet secondhand romance. It’s tragic, really.”

Amir rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face. “Oh, I can imagine. You poor thing.”

“Thank you for your sympathy in this trying time,” he said, serious for a moment before devolving into giggles. “Really though, talking to you’s actually helped me a lot. It’s been stressful, planning everything, but… I don’t know. I’m excited.” He yawned, laughing a bit through the end. “And tired, apparently.”

“I can’t believe it’s already tomorrow,” Amir said, and Fitz laughed again. 

“You’re like, the sixth person to say that to me today. It doesn’t even feel real anymore.” A comfortable quiet settled over them for a moment. “I’m seriously debating just sticking Porridge in my coat and bringing him with.”

Amir laughed, picturing Porridge with an elegant mask over his fluff. “I’m not sure he’d like that.”

“Pssh! Odds are, he follows me there anyway. I don’t know _how_ he keeps getting out; I blocked my window off and everything…” He trailed off, words melting into another yawn. “God, it’s not even late; why am I yawning?”

Amir risked a glance at his phone’s clock and winced. “It is a _little_ late.”

“Yeah, maybe for you, Mr. Morning Practice! I have a reputation to keep as a resident disaster with no sleep schedule, thanks very much.”

“Still, though, you should probably try and get some sleep soon. Big day tomorrow and everything.”

Fitz grumbled audibly. “You make a point.” He was quiet for a second, and then his tone brightened. “At least if I sleep now, I’ll be a couple hours closer to seeing you, right?”

Amir’s breath caught.

“Don’t think I forgot about that dance,” he said, a sly smile in his voice. “I’m absolutely _atrocious_ at dancing, by the way, but you asked nicely, so…” 

Amir laughed with him, trying to mask his incredulity. This was really happening, wasn’t it?

“I’m sure you’re perfect,” he said, words escaping into the dark.

Fitz was quiet again, and Amir felt a rising anxiety that he’d overstepped, but then he heard a breathy chuckle.

“You can’t just _say_ things like that, Chad. Not without looking me in the eyes, at least.” He sounded a bit more reserved than he had, but… almost hopeful. 

Amir pressed the phone closer to his cheek. “Remind me tomorrow, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the lee pace debate remains unsolved in real life  
> vote now on your phones!  
> (also lowkey i'm thinkin of doin a jecily spinoff when i have time)


	4. Don't Talk, Take My Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> waheyy it's finally done!!!!! i started a full time job, so chapters take me a little longer than they did, but there's only one left!! i hope you'll all stick with me until it's finished :,) anyways i appreciate you all so much!! your likes + comments gave me the motivation i needed to actually finish this chapter, so thank you so much!! <3

The sun fell in ribbons from his hastily closed blinds, and Rupert blinked as he yawned awake. Porridge came reluctantly when he called, leaping off a sunny spot on his desk chair and curling up against Rupert’s side.

“It’s today already,” he murmured, propping himself up and petting behind Porridge’s ears. “Can you believe it, boy?” 

Porridge settled more comfortably in response, purring quietly.

“We’re going to throw an amazing party, we’re going to impress the donor and save the department… I’m going to meet _him.”_

Rupert let his breath out all at once, collapsing back onto his bed. 

“I really hope he likes me,” he whispered, staring at the ceiling. “I mean, I know he does, but… I don’t know. I’m being stupid; it’s too early for feelings.”

He shifted to give Porridge more room and winced. The cold glass of his phone pressed against his arm, forgotten on a pile of blankets.

Rupert groaned. “I can’t _believe_ I forgot to charge my phone. And I have class this morning, too…”

He clicked his phone on to check the time (still a few minutes before his alarm!), and a smile crept up his lips when he noticed three texts from Chad.

**I think you fell asleep, so… I’ll see you tomorrow, Fitz.**

**Or later today, I guess.**

**Either way, I’m excited. :D**

“Good to see you’re up already,” Cecily said, breezing into his room. Her hair was pulled into a messy poof, and the ashy circles under her eyes stood in stark contrast against her brown skin.

She was grinning, though.

“How long have you been up?” he asked, pulling himself into a sitting position.

“Too long, believe me,” she said, setting her coffee down and perching on the edge of his desk. “I wanted to go clear everything with Lavinia in person, so…” She gestured to her mismatched clothes. “Her office hours are like, the worst.”

Rupert nodded in solidarity, pulling his blanket over his shoulders as he started rummaging through his clothes. “So, you saved the department?”

“Pretty much,” she said, sipping her coffee. “I’ll tell you more about it when you have more than like, ten minutes before class.”

Rupert checked his phone and cursed. “Okay, okay, understood,” he said, pulling on a shirt and checking his hair in the mirror. 

“Anyways, we need to get ready a little earlier than we planned, so do you want to meet in front of the graphics building at like, three?”

Rupert pulled a face and stuffed some books into his bag. “How come? I was banking on those four extra hours.”

_”Because,_ my idea means we take a little longer getting ready, okay?”

“Yeah, but… why, exactly?”

Cecily sighed, rolling her eyes at him before taking another sip of her drink.

“Okay, so you know how Lavinia —” 

Rupert’s alarm sounded, and he winced.

“Sorry, Cecily. This is my ‘leave now or my professors are going to lock the door’ alarm. I’ll see you at three?”

“Ugh, I _hate_ morning classes for you. Why are all the classics professors like, the worst?”

He laughed and slung his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

She waved him off, and he grabbed his keys. “I’ll pick us up early dinner, kay? Text me what food you want!”

“You’re a saint,” he called back, and he closed the door behind him. 

~

Amir slid out of bed, stretching as his feet hit the cool floor. He hadn’t slept in this late in weeks; in preparation for the scouts, Coach had been pushing them harder and harder with morning practice. Between that and early classes, he’d been too busy to really get a full night’s sleep. 

He scrolled through his phone as he got ready for the day, saving the texts from Fitz until he was finished with his morning routine. 

_good morning chad!!!_

_i must have passed out but i’m excited to see you too <3_

_also i’m glad ur sleeping in for once like a normal college student asjhdfgk_

_i’m rly excited for tonight idk if that sounds weird but its early so!! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_

_anyways i have to go to class so i’ll talk to you soon??_

_(catch me in whatever embarrassing costume my roommate picks out)_

He walked out into the common area, mumbling a ‘good morning’ to Joan as he walked past the table.

“Hey, Amir? You might want to look at this,” she said, looking up from her breakfast and motioning him over.

“What’s up?” he asked, pulling a chair over.

“So, I was checking my socials and…” she turned her phone toward him, explaining as he read. “Apparently the masquerade is officially themed now. Historical royalty, or something? Traditional wear, elegant costumes, and over-the-top finery encouraged.”

“I thought you were joking about that when you brought it up before,” he muttered, skimming the announcement. 

“So did I,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll figure something out, I guess. What about you, though?”

“What about me?”

“Well… I mean, I don’t think you’ll impress him with just a boring suit anymore. No offense,” she added, and he rolled his eyes. “So, do you have anything else? Otherwise we have to… go shopping, or something.” She furrowed her brow in slight disgust. _“Please_ tell me you have something else.”

Amir looked away awkwardly, and she groaned. 

“Come on. You have to have _something_ princely.”

“Do I look like a prince to you?”

She looked him up and down, smirking at his faded shirt and baggy sweatpants. “Oh, yeah,” she snorted. “A real knight in shining armor.”

“Hey, come on,” he groaned, and she smiled apologetically. “Okay, well, we might be in luck. There’s a chance I have this one thing that _might_ maybe work.”

“Oh?” She raised a brow and leaned in a bit closer, grin creeping up her cheeks.

Amir sighed, turning away as his cheeks darkened. “Don’t make me regret telling you.”

“Oh, I would _never.”_

~

“So,” Rupert said, following Cecily through the door to the backstage storage room. “Theming the masquerade as some kind of royal costume ball really worked?” 

“Yep,” she said, popping the _p_ sound. “We had like, a _ton_ of last minute tickets sell today. Apparently people like, really like the idea of masquerade royalty? Who knew, right?” She tilted her head for a second before laughing. “Well, I guess I did.”

“You’re a genius,” he said in awe, and she smiled at him. 

“I know.”

The room was in its usual state of organized chaos; clothes spilled out of mislabeled bins, and racks of costumes were rolled in haphazard lines across the floor. A few piles of regency clothing waited in the center of the room, no doubt left by fellow drama students looking for costumes that fit the last-minute theme.

“So we need to impress the donor, but more importantly,” Cecily said, turning to him with a grin, “You need to impress your boy.”

“Shut _up,”_ he hissed, and she smirked. “The walls are thin; I can’t take harassment from you _and_ the rest of the department.”

“Anyways,” she said, completely ignoring him. “I picked this for me.” She moved a rack of dark clothes aside, reaching for a hanger in the corner of the room. “See?”

She held out a white dress, the industrial light reflecting in its soft sheen. Beadwork glittered at its neckline and waist, and Cecily sighed as she moved it slightly in the light. “It’s very damsel, isn’t it? I didn’t have anything nice enough but… I remembered we had this from that inter-university loan last year, and I figured no one will miss it for a night, right? Besides, I… sort of already skipped a class to make a mask that matched, so…”

“Right,” said Rupert, mostly convinced, and she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, shut up. I made you one, too. Plus, it matches!”

“You what?” he asked, and caught the blur of silver and blue that she pulled from her bag. 

“Well, I _told_ you I was going to pick something out for you too, remember?”

~

Joan gave him a concerned look, pulling him aside as they approached the theater building. “Hey, Amir. You’re really sure about this, right? I don’t want to pressure you into going or anything, you know? Not if you’re not comfortable. I’m just here to back you up, so…” 

He raised a brow at her. “I’m not turning around after all this,” he said, gesturing down at himself before starting up the stairs.

She looked back up at him, and her expression softened. “You really like him, don’t you?” It sounded more like a statement of fact than a question.

“Yeah,” Amir said simply. “I do.”

She smiled at him, and looked him over one last time before shoving him lightly toward the building. “Well, you look nice, so at least that won’t hurt your chances.”

He groaned, and she stifled a laugh. “Come _on.”_

Joan widened her eyes. “I wasn’t joking!”

“Are you sure this is okay?” he asked, for probably the sixth time in the last two hours. “I know they said ‘traditional wear encouraged,’ but…”

He looked down at his outfit, smoothing it again in nervous habit.

The robe fell to his mid-calf, bright crimson fabric catching the light as he walked. Gold trim matched the sash at his waist, and shimmering sigils of lions and leaves stood adorned the robe in a repeating pattern.

“I still can’t believe you got lucky enough that your mom made you bring this. It’s literally the _nicest_ thing I’ve seen anyone in our entire building wear, and you just had it in a closet?”

She _tsk_ ed quietly and gave him a genuine smile. “You look amazing, Amir. He’s gonna love it.”

They walked up the steps to the theater building, waiting at the front while overdressed theater students checked their tickets. He turned to Joan, expecting her to follow him in when a blonde girl with mermaid scales glittering on her face wheeled forward from behind the ticket desk.

“I’m really sorry, but we can’t let you in like that. It’s a formal, so…”

Joan quickly looked down at her blouse and dark jeans, mouth open in protest, but the words died on her lips. She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” she said simply, and he was half upset with her until she turned to him.

“I’ll meet up with you later, I guess? I’ll head back and see if I can find any — hey!”

“Come on,” said one of the girls in the front, pulling her arm. “We have spare costumes in the back, and you can grab a mask once you head in!”

Joan looked at Amir with a tired resignation, and he shrugged, smiling helplessly. “Fine,” she said, turning to look at the girl. “Nothing too crazy though, okay?”

He waved as they whisked her away, silently thanking whatever force had made her his friend and trying not to think of how he’d have to make this up to her. 

~

Rupert smiled wanly, exchanging pleasantries with yet another guest he’d bumped into while looking for Chad. Yes, he _should have_ told Chad what he’d be wearing, but his phone died after his last class, and he hadn’t thought to charge it during all the last-minute preparations.

It didn’t help matters that the donor was undercover, too. 

He cursed himself for coming up with a masquerade in the first place, smiling reflexively at a haughty-looking couple as they walked past.

“Oh, I don’t know what she looks like,” Lavinia had said earlier, hurriedly stashing files in her cluttered cabinet with a manicured hand. “I guess she wants to see the department and get to know us without us knowing it’s, you know. Her. Not really my style, I’ll say, but who knows with these self-important types?”

“Right,” said Rupert doubtfully, biting back a smirk and a comment.

“Anyway, I’m sure she just _loves_ that it’s a masquerade. She gets to watch us squirm all evening, and I don’t even know who we need to impress!” Lavinia huffed, pushing a loose curl back behind her ear. “Speaking of impressing people though, I must _say,_ Rupert, you look _absolutely_ charming! Remind me to keep you in mind when we do _Hamlet_ next season.”

He looked down at himself, wincing again as he came back to the present.

Cecily had insisted, and two hours before the party, he wasn’t really in a place to argue. Besides, it was hardly as bad as it could have been.

She’d been thoughtful enough to grab a pair of black slacks and his favorite boots before she left their room, so he’d only had to borrow a top.

Of course, said top happened to be a literal prince’s tunic. (And he’d made a valiant effort to talk Cecily out of the shoulder epaulettes even if she won in the end, thank you very much.) The tunic was a soft, deep blue, made of velvet and set with shining stones around a silver trim. It made sense for a stage production, when he was playing a part, someone new entirely. But now… well, he definitely didn’t feel like himself, and that wasn’t helping his nerves.

At least he wasn’t the only one overdressed, he thought in a quick effort to calm down, eyes catching on a few people in sparkling ballgowns and bright saris before his gaze shifted and he sighed in relief.

Cecily floated over to him, the crystals in her braided updo twinkling with each step. “Rupie! You still haven’t found Chad yet?”

He held up his dead phone, and she smiled sympathetically. “Bummer. Still, I feel like you have to know him when you see him, right? That’s how it happens in movies, and considering you two are basically just a rom-com in the making…”

He groaned, and her smile grew. “Oh, come on, you know I’m right! Besides, I think you look amazing, and I’m a _lesbian._ He’s definitely gonna notice you, don’t worry!”

“I mean, you look nice,” he said, gesturing at her: the flawless eyeliner beneath her white feathered mask, her carefully pinned braids, the light catching on her simple, elegant dress. “But I look like a Barbie prince, Cec. I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said, sighing defeatedly. 

“Okay, first off, this wouldn’t be a problem if you had literally _anything_ cute to wear. But come on, Rupert, level with me for a sec. You’re a fucking catch, okay? And you look great, so… be nice to yourself.” She set a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s a costume party, right? So, like, lean into it! Besides, I feel like it might be easier talking to him like this, anyway. You might look different, but this way, you don’t have to be anyone but you.”

Rupert looked at her, a little stunned. “That was… surprisingly insightful. Thanks, Cecily. Really.”

She patted his shoulder before glancing behind him. “I know, I know. You’d be lost without me. But it looks like Lavinia might be embarrassing us in front of someone important, so I think my divine wisdom might be needed elsewhere. But let me know how it goes once you find him! And make sure you’re here for Masquerade Court, alright?”

And with a wave and a swish of white fabric, she was gone, and he was back to searching.

~

“Something embarrassing his roommate picked out. Right,” Amir muttered, gaze flitting across the room. Maybe parties like this were normal for the theater department, but he’d never seen this many people dressed so extravagantly in his life. A few hundred people milled and danced about the hall, each person clad in a mask which only made the whole experience more surreal.

How people fit some of the more elaborate outfits in their minuscule dorm closets, he could only guess.

Still, with everyone dressed in finery and consumes and everything in between, it was impossible to tell which person was Fitz. Seriously, if he was going to be away from his phone all day, he could have at least given a better description.

_Unless he doesn’t want to see you._ He immediately pushed the thought aside, trying to ignore it. Fitz was his _friend;_ he was probably just busy. Still, he felt his nerves more acutely than he had all day — at least, until he saw a flash of silver in his periphery.

“Amir!” she hissed, and he whirled around. 

“Joan?” he asked, keeping the shock out of his voice from seeing her in a dress. It was adorned in shining stones and plates of silver, the fabric textured like the mail of an elegant armor.

“It’s almost hard to believe they’re going through budget cuts,” she said, plucking at an ornately beaded sleeve. 

“You look nice, though,” he offered lamely, and she rolled her eyes beneath a matching silver mask.

“Well, don’t get used to it,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I’m only doing this for you.” Still, the way she gently smoothed the fabric at her side said otherwise. “Anyways, I’m pretty sure they stole this from some inter-college loan? At least, that’s what that mermaid girl from the front kept telling me.”

He raised a brow, impressed. “I’m surprised they got away with it.” He cocked his head. “Actually, I’m more surprised you’re okay with that. Where’s that unswerving sense of justice I’ve come to know and love?”

She rolled her eyes beneath the silver beading of her mask. “I guess the other school was being pretty awful to some of the actors here, so… I don’t know. Seems like a fair trade to me. Actually, they probably should have taken more.”

“Joan!” he said, pretending he wasn’t absolutely delighted and failing completely. 

“Oh, shut up.”

They walked around the room, trying to keep to the edge of the room so as to avoid the more… enthusiastic dancers. She offered him a cup he didn’t even see her take, and they drank their too-sweet punch in a quieter corner of the room.

“So,” she said, taking a careful sip from her cup. “Did you find him yet?”

Amir gave her a look, and she rolled her eyes.

“Okay well, obviously not, but… have you seen him? Or anyone who could be him?”

He shook his head, sighing dramatically. “Do you want to leave that badly?”

She shoved him lightly, taking care not to snag the beading on her dress. “You know that’s not it. I would rather not third-wheel for you if I can avoid it, though. Then again, I don’t really know anyone else here, so I guess I shouldn’t be complaining.” She downed the rest of her drink, wincing a bit at the taste before shrugging. “What I’m saying is, go find your boy.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he sighed, throwing his cup away as he took a step back toward the crowd. “What about you?”

She eyed her empty cup before looking across the room. “I guess I’ll go… socialize? I’ll stick around in case you need me, though.” And with a smile and a steely mask of confidence, she stepped into the crowd.

~

Rupert slipped through the rehearsal room door, not bothering to force the rusted latch closed all the way. It was almost completely dark in here, industrial light switched off in favor of the soft light filtering in from the crack in the door. Music floated through the room, muffled but still louder than his quiet mutterings. 

“Okay, come on, this department’s huge, there’s no way no one — yes!” he whisper-shouted, clutching a forgotten phone charger in his hand. He scrambled to plug it into the nearest outlet, pulling his knees to his chest and humming to pass the time. If he spent the rest of the night here, it might not be a total loss. He was tired anyway, he told himself; he could always meet Chad later (or never, with the way the night had been going so far).

Rupert tried to push his thoughts aside, wincing when the screen finally booted. The onscreen clock showed that the masquerade was already half over, and he was still alone. No notifications popped up, and for a moment, his heart dropped.

Then, a light buzz in his hand.

Then, a few more.

**I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but I’m really, really excited to see you tonight.**

**I know you’re probably busy but my roommate keeps making fun of me for talking about you too much.**

Rupert stilled for a second, feeling a smile creep up his cheeks as more texts came in. His nervousness seemed so stupid in hindsight; Rupert _knew_ Chad, he knew he was reliable and honest and kind, knew that Chad was the kind of person who could calm him down without even trying.

**My roommate kind of forced me to wear something too, so… you’re not alone in that, at least.**

**It’s more traditional wear than a costume, but I think that still counts, right?**

**Anyways, I’m sure your roommate has taste, but even if you end up looking ridiculous, I still can’t wait to see you.**

**We’re heading out soon!**

**I haven’t really spent a lot of time in the West but… your whole department really is this crazy? I don’t know why I’m surprised.**

**I know you’re busy trying to throw a party; I’m not trying to be annoying or whatever.**

**Just… I hope you saw how happy all these people out here look. You did amazing. :)**

Rupert stared at his screen for a moment, feeling a flush stain his cheeks. 

_God,_ he was in deep.

Chad was _here,_ he was a room away and oh my _god_ he was only a room away. Rupert was two words into some inadequate response, trying to apologize and thank him and finally find him when — 

_Click._

The door opened and he dropped his phone instinctively, looking up in embarrassment at the stranger who just walked in. 

“I swear, I wasn’t doing anything weird—” he started, but the stranger cut him off, voice a bit nervous.

“I’m sorry, am I not supposed to be back here? I can leave, I was just—” He sighed, leaning against the door. “I was supposed to meet someone, but… I don’t know. Maybe he just didn’t—“

“Chad?!”

He stepped closer, eyes widening behind his mask. “Fitz?”

“Yeah,” he said, trying to keep his voice level as he scrambled to his feet. “Yeah, it’s me.” 

“Hi,” Chad said, a little breathless, and Rupert _melted._

Chad was _tall,_ and somehow, Rupert hadn’t prepared for that possibility. Yes, it made sense, he was a _chad,_ after all, but… semantics. He was dressed in a loose-fitting tunic, bright colors muted in the low light, but his dark eyes shone as he came closer. 

“We can sit if you want,” he said a bit nervously, stilling a few feet from Rupert. “You have to be exhausted.” 

“Oh, you have no idea,” Rupert said gratefully, dropping unceremoniously back to the floor. Chad sat a few feet away, carefully pulling his knees to his chest as quiet settled over them yet again. Rupert wanted to say something, _anything,_ or just to scoot closer to Chad, but his nerves had him paralyzed. 

“So, uh…” Chad trailed off, glancing at Rupert out of the corner of his eye and trying to sound casual. “How’s Porridge?”

The room was quiet for a second as the song ended outside, and Chad ran a hand through his hair, talking quickly. “I mean, um. That is—”

The nervous energy snapped as Rupert started laughing, quiet at first until he snorted, and Chad started laughing too.

“That was the best opener you had?” Rupert said, another giggle bubbling up. “I was really expecting some cheesy line or something, but I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised!”

“Hey, I’m not cheesy!” he laughed, resting his weight on his arm as he turned toward Rupert.

“Right, of course not,” Fitz said, rolling his eyes. “I totally believe you. I mean, you did dodge the usual cliche lines by asking about my illegal campus cat so…” 

“So, I’m doing great is what you’re saying, then,” he said, cocking his head to the side with a grin.

Something about Chad’s smile sent a pang through his chest, and Rupert smiled back while he tried to ignore the pounding of his heart. _He’s just a friend, he’s just a friend…_

“But, uh, yeah. Porridge is good. He didn’t follow me here, (far as I know, anyway), so that’s good, right?”

Chad sighed dramatically. “Shame. I was really looking forward to you smuggling him in.”

Rupert motioned to his fitted tunic and shook his head in faux disappointment. “He wouldn’t fit. Next time for sure, though.”

Chad just smiled at him, so bright and brilliant Rupert had to glance away for a second, not bothering to conceal the pink tinge on his cheeks.

A moment passed before Chad spoke again. “So,” he said thoughtfully. “You must be really proud of yourself, right? It seems like everyone’s having a great time out there. I’m sure the donor is super impressed.”

Rupert considered him for a second before looking down to smooth the fabric of his dress pants. “I mean… I guess I am, kind of? I’m just happy it’s still going, you know? No disasters we couldn’t fix or anything. And of course I’m grateful Cecily came up with the idea to make it a formal; I think we only sold half the tickets we did because of her.”

Chad made a face Rupert couldn’t quite read in the dark, but he shook it off with an easy smile a moment later. “Well, whatever you say, I think it’s nice, and you should be proud.” He sighed lightly, glancing toward the crack in the door as a light smile settled over his face. “I don’t really do a lot of stuff like this — I mean, obviously, but — it’s the best I’ve ever been to, for what it’s worth.”

Rupert hummed, smiling softly at him. “Takes your mind off all your sports stuff, huh?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Chad laughed. “I’m sure my coach would have a conniption if he knew I was here. Probably a good thing it’s a masquerade; no one from my team would recognize me even if they were here.” 

“Well, they sound like the literal worst, so I’m glad you didn’t see any of them. Actually, as unofficial host, I’m uninviting them all, so… there.”

“Thanks, Fitz,” Chad said, giving him a half smile before running a hand through his hair. “But, anyway, uh… I think I saw my advisor dancing with your department head? At lease, I think it was her. She gave off a vibe; I can’t really explain it.”

Rupert raised a brow, turning and resting his weight on his palm. “You’d be able to tell, believe me. Blonde, wearing a Gigantic blue ballgown?”

Chad nodded, and Rupert laughed. “Yeah, that’s her.”

They talked for what felt like forever, trading stories about their days and the party and everything else. The constant hum of conversation outside was the only reminder they weren’t completely alone, but even that seemed to quiet as Rupert listened, faint beneath the sound of Chad’s voice.

A comfortable quiet eventually settled over them, broken only by the music floating softly over them.

Rupert glanced from his feet to Chad (only a few feet away, now, close enough to touch) before glancing down again. It didn’t make _sense;_ he was calm, he was the happiest he’d been in weeks, but… his heart still raced. He wasn’t scared anymore, everything was… well, perfect. So… why did he feel like this?

Then it hit him, overwhelming details on a picture just now coming into focus. Whatever this was… Rupert had never known anyone like Chad, and something in him refused to let him go, refused to let him play this off like another passing heartbreak.

He really _was_ in deep. 

“Hey, Chad, um. You look… really nice. Just by the way, you know.”

He looked up at Chad nervously, flushing a bit more when he saw how Chad was looking at him.

“Sorry, what?” he said, genuine apology in his tone. “I kind of… spaced out for a second, there.”

“Oh, um…” The music faded outside, and he shivered. 

When had they gotten this close? It seemed like only inches, now. 

“It’s nothing, I…”

The music changed, a simple piano intro to a slow waltz, and Rupert was on his feet before he could think better of it. 

“Dance with me?” he blurted, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks. “You did promise, after all.”

Chad got to his feet, a sly smile playing at his lips as he offered an arm. “It would be my honor.”

~

Fitz winced as he missed another step, and Amir smothered a laugh as he led them into a turn. He’d been so nervous, but after meeting Fitz, laughing with him… all his anxiety had vanished. Transformed, maybe, into excitement, anticipation… but most of all, he felt comfortable and happy, safe in a quiet moment alone with Fitz.

“Okay, listen,” Fitz said, pulling a self-deprecating face. “I know I made you promise me a dance and all but I wasn’t lying about being absolutely atrocious, so…”

Amir did laugh at that, a warm feeling settling in his chest. “Don’t you have to dance for theater? Isn’t that like, half of what you guys do here?”

“Okay, point but like… it’s not like we have to dance with partners! And I’m not very good at ‘theater dancing’ either, thank you very much.” As if proving his point, Fitz mixed up the next few steps, shrugging and grinning helplessly as he tried to follow Amir’s lead. “I promise, I’m not all bad, really.”

“Well, I mean,” Amir said, biting back a grin, “you do have a wonderful personality.”

“Damn right I do,” Fitz muttered, looking down at his feet to check his steps before looking back into Amir’s eyes. “And don’t forget, I’m hot too.”

“As if I could with you right there,” Amir said, spinning Fitz for a beat before pulling him in just a bit closer. Looking at Fitz’s smile made him feel dizzy, a lightheaded giddiness spreading through him as the last few measures of the song played around them.

Soft purple light washed over them from the crack in the door, catching on Fitz’s mask, his lashes, the faint freckles on his face… 

Amir couldn’t take his eyes off him, couldn’t process the million thoughts racing through his head. Fitz caught his eye as Amir led him into one last spin, and the weight of the moment crashed on him all at once.

Fitz’s hand slipped from his as he stumbled, but Amir caught him instinctively, arms wrapped tight around him. 

“You saved me,” Fitz said softly, his eyes wide.

“I always will, if you’ll let me.”

He laughed quietly, playing with the hairs at the nape of Amir’s neck. “I knew you were cheesy.”

Fitz looked at him as if expectant for the inevitable, a knowing smile playing at his lips. He had to know, _obviously_ he had to know, so… what did Amir have to lose?

“Fitz,” he said, voice low, “can I…?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he whispered, twining his arms around Amir’s neck and pulling him closer.

Amir leaned down to meet him halfway, wrapping his arms tighter around Fitz almost instinctively as their lips met. He was frozen for just a moment, every conscious thought overwhelmed by the feeling of Fitz’s mouth against his until that dizzy feeling took over and he started kissing him back. Fitz smiled against his mouth, gently caressing the side of Amir’s face with a hand before resting it lightly against his jaw. 

He pulled back a bit, gently guiding Fitz back onto his feet before pressing their foreheads together, grinning helplessly as Fitz took his hand and intertwined their fingers. Amir opened his mouth, trying to say just a fraction of the way he felt, but Fitz took it as an invitation, chasing his lips and stepping into another kiss.

Amir reciprocated immediately, running his tongue swiftly across Fitz’s bottom lip as Fitz pressed him against the wall. He reached up, tangling his fingers in Fitz’s soft curls as their kiss deepened, thoughts fading away as they kissed for a small eternity in the dark. Eventually, Amir let out a quiet sigh of contentment as Fitz lightly traced his jaw with his thumb, kissing him chastely before pulling back.

“God, you’re perfect,” Fitz said, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

Amir let out a quiet laugh, still a little dizzy. “I thought that was my line.”

He just smiled back, reaching up and gently covering Amir’s hand with his own before pressing it to his lips.

“Fitz, I need to… um, I…”

Fitz gave him a breathless smile, his eyes blown wide behind the mask. “Yeah?”

“I… I don’t just want to be your friend anymore. I mean, you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before. You’re brave and caring, and you’re so good with words, and you’re just…” he trailed off, flushing when he saw the growing smile on Fitz’s face. “Talking to you was already my favorite thing, but… being around you just makes everything seem brighter, somehow.”

Fitz squeezed his hand, and only then did Amir notice his own was shaking. He let out a shuddery laugh, trying to calm himself down to no avail. This was it, after all.

No going back.

“I want to let you in; I want you to know who I am. You already know me better than anyone, really, so…” He let out a breath, closing his eyes as he untied the simple knot and let his mask fall away. “My name is Amir. I’m a political science major, I’m an only child, I, uh… I grew up in a small town, my favorite color is purple—” 

He opened his eyes at the feeling of Fitz pushing him back, his hands dropping in an instant as he stepped back, his eyes wide.

“No, _no,_ you don’t get to do this. You don’t—” he spluttered, running a hand through his hair as he started to pace. “I was supposed to be getting over you, and you… you don't get to do this _again!_ You can’t, you just _can’t,_ okay?”

Amir’s brow furrowed, and he took a cautious step forward. “Fitz,” he said, surprisingly calm for how his heart was pounding. “What are you talking about?” 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! You’re _Amir,_ you’re the captain of the football team, you… you have a girlfriend!” he hissed.

“What? No, I—” Amir started, cut off by the sound of the opening door.

“Rupert, are you hiding out in here?” A girl in a white dress with slightly disheveled hair walked into the room, sighing and motioning him over. “Come on, we’re about to announce the masquerade court, and I really want you to—” She stopped, looking between the two of them before her eyes went wide. “Wait, is that him?! Oh, I can go—” 

“No, Cecily, it’s fine,” Fitz said, loosing the silver cord of his mask and tossing it aside carelessly as he swiped at his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Amir found his voice as they turned to walk away from him, but he already knew it was too late. “Fitz, please, wait—!” he called, stepping forward before he could stop himself.

And just like that, Fitz turned to look at him, the crushed look on his face all too familiar. Their eyes met in a frozen moment, and the breath rushed out of Amir as the door closed between them.

Fitzroy.

No,

_Rupert._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will i write the jecily spinoff the world needs?? maybe so


End file.
